


Unwilling

by echotango



Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Death, F/M, Forced Marriage, Manipulative Loki, Mentions of self-harm, Miscarriage, Physical Abuse, Rape, Reproductive Coercion, Verbal Abuse, an urn gets stolen, sociopath!loki
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-08
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2017-12-14 07:15:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 52,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/834181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/echotango/pseuds/echotango
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just when SHIELD successfully blames Manhattan's destruction on a meteor crash, Loki comes back to Earth...but with a much different goal. Dia Coulson, Agent Coulson's only daughter and living relative, goes missing from their apartment. The only clue left behind is Clara Hill, Dia's best friend, who is left in a coma on the bathroom floor. Suddenly, Dia is plunged into a world shrouded into a secrets and everything she has ever known disappears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Introduction

 

The flyer sits on my bed and as I pick it up, it makes a crinkling noise. My picture on the flyer is one from a party that I went to with my best friend, Clara. My hair is brown there, and now it’s blonde. People criticized me for dyeing my hair, but I did it to forget my mom’s death. Now, I can’t forget my past. I can’t forget the present…and I just can’t think about the future. I doubt I even have one.


	2. He's Come to Claim Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's just the beginning of this horror story...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for checking this out. Just a quick heads up, there will be NUMEROUS TRIGGER WARNINGS for the rest of the story. Triggers including: kidnapping, rape, abuse of all types, and mentions of self-harm. This is a very dark fic and includes psycho!Loki. If anyone questions me about why I chose to write about psycho!Loki, I have an essay prepared. Please comment and tell me what you think! Love you guys. xx Effie (echo--tango)

 

“What’s for dinner, Chef Dia?” Clara Hill’s voice rings through my family’s apartment and I grin to myself as I stir the pot of mac n’ cheese.

                “Mmmmhhhh, how about people?” I turn my head slightly to see her entering the kitchen with her backpack and purse in hand. As usual she's wearing jeans, a blouse, and ballet flats. She runs her thin fingers through her long, wavy brown hair and lets out a little sigh. With one swift motion, she slides her backpack against the wall and puts her purse on my father’s empty chair. Yet again, I have the whole apartment to myself while Dad is away on a business trip in New Mexico or somewhere. I’ve learned to keep myself busy with homework and inviting friends over, but I still miss him trying to cook for me. He always manages to burn everything and the smoke detector always goes off, leaving me the only one who can cook in the house.  He’s not home that often and when he’s home, we still don’t get to spend much time together.

                “You’ve been watching too much _Hannibal_.” She plops down in her chair and then fishes something out of her purse I don’t see what it is since I’m pouring the mac n’ cheese into two of the white porcelain bowls that I had gotten out before I started cooking. “Okay, so we have a choice of _The Hobbit_ or _Les Mis_. Which one?”  
                “You want me to choose? Damn it!” I scrunch up my face as I set the bowls down on the table. “Why not both?” She picks up her fork and napkin which I had set out earlier, then I turn to the stainless steel fridge and fish around in the freezer for some broccoli.

                “Mh, I guess we have time.”

                “Cool, you want some broccoli?”

                “You know I like broccoli, serve some up.”

                “You’re such a weirdo. Seriously, what teenaged girl likes broccoli as much as you do?”

                “You know I’m totally _unique_.” Clara does a sarcastic head and eye roll then smirks and winks as I put the bowl of frozen veggies in the microwave. As I set the timer, my German Shepard, Henning, skitters into the room. He’s only a year old and he’s gotten into the awkward teenage stage. Henning acts like a puppy and skitters around the wooden floors without a care in the world.

                “Hey cutie patootie.” I clap my hands against my thighs and he runs over to me with his tongue dangling from his mouth. “How are ya bud?” In response, he sits down in front of me and wags his tail, hoping for a bit of food. I chuckle and watch him as he licks his lips, then shifts his weight around, impatiently waiting.

                “Already fed you, you greedy little thing.” I bend down and give him a kiss on his furry forehead and then stand up when the microwave beeps.

                “Don’t worry cutie, I’ll give you a bit of my food.”

                “You talking to me?” I playfully eye her as I use a spare dish towel to take the steaming hot bowl out of the microwave.

                “Oh of course I am.” She’s rolling her eyes, I can tell just by her tone. I’ve known her since preschool, so fairly easy to tell what she’s thinking, whether or not she actually says anything.

                “Here’s your broccoli, ya butt.” I put the bowl in the middle of the cheap wooden table and then sit down across from her at my seat. When I dig into my mac n’ cheese, I find that it’s a bit cold. Nonetheless, I greedily stuff my face with it. Damn, I make some awesome mac n’ cheese…even if it is from a box. I take two pieces of broccoli, just to make myself feel healthy, and then take my last bite of the wonderful meal. When I lean back in my chair, I find that while I had been stuffing my face, Clara was daintily eating pieces of broccoli and she had already finished her bowl of mac n’ cheese.

                “You were hungry.”

                “Didn’t have much to eat today.” She shrugs and then munches on another piece of broccoli.

                “How can you eat that stuff?” I make a face at her but she shrugs again and continues munching. I don’t question her any further and pick up our empty bowls which I then deposit in the dishwasher. Honestly, I fucking hate touching the dishwasher and I complain about it all the time, but it beats hand washing the dishes. Thank God I don’t have to do that. When I turn around again, she has miraculously finished off the bowl of broccoli and is looking around for something.

                “You forgot the drinks! What kind of server are you?”

                “Oh dear me, I’m sorry.” I stick my tongue out and then list off the beverages that we have.

                “I’ll have root beer, por favor.”

                “Coming right up.” I take out two cans of Bart’s root beer and hand her one of them. Clara gleefully opens it and takes a swig just as I open mine.

                “I haven’t had root beer in, like, forever.”

                “I know, I used my allowance to buy some the other day. Dad doesn’t like it, but he’s never here ssssoooo I get to choose what’s in the fridge and what’s not.”

                “Does that mean you have that strawberry soda you were talking about buying?”

                “I have two cases.”

                “Fuck yes. We can have a food break once we finish _Les Mis_.”

                “Cool beans, let’s get-“ To my amazement, the home phone rings. I’m incredibly unpopular amongst my peers and no one ever calls me. I run over to the counter tucked into the corner and pick up the phone. The caller ID says “Dean Winchester” and I smirk to myself.

                “Don Won’s Chinese.” I say in a fake Chinese accent.

                “Hey, Dee.”

                “Hi Dean, I was hoping you’d fall for it.”

                “Ha, you know I never will.” His gruff voice sends shivers down my spine and I bite my lip. My eyes dart over to Clara, who’s giving me the ‘God dammit, hang up so we can go watch a fucking movie’. eye which is probably overtop of the ‘you have a crush and I know it’ look.

                 "So is it okay if Sam and I stay with you for a few days, we have some business in New York-"

                "It's fine, man. It always is, you know that."

                "Just askin', I don't want to intrude on you and your lover-"

                "I don't have a boyfriend, Dean!"

                "Okay, girlfriend-"

                "I'M AS SINGLE AS A PRINGLE." He bursts out laughing on the other side and I find Clara putting her face in her hands, trying to hide her chuckling. I stick my tongue out at her and then listen to Dean cough on the other side, as if he's trying to stop laughing.

                "Alright, uhm, I'll leave you to search of your man-"

                "Be quiet."

                "We'll be there in, like, two days. 'kay?"

                "I won't have a boyfriend by then."

                "Eventually you'll find one and then he'll break your heart. See ya later, Dee-"

                "Bye butthead."

                "You're too sweet." He hangs up, leaving me blushing on the other side.

                “Come on, watching movies will get your head off the fact that you don’t have a boyfriend.” She comes over and playfully tugs my hand, forcing my smile to grow into a goofy grin. We run into the living room and Henning follows us, his tail wagging while he hops up on the ‘L’ shaped sectional.

The wall furthest from the door is basically a wall completely made out of floor to ceiling windows. The TV is placed against the middle of the windows and the large black sectional is placed so that the shorter branch of the 'L' is to the right of the TV. I let her stick the DVD into the player and I plop down onto the couch. I've had a long day full of tests and idiotic people questioning my ability to complete a project on time. She skips over to the couch and belly flops onto the portion of the couch to the left of me. As Henning enters the room, I reach for the remote on the glass coffee table which I allow him to sniff a bit before he jumps onto the sofa. He lays down on the smaller portion of the 'L' and lets out a contented sigh.

                We quickly start the movie and the February moon is soon out in the sky. Around the part were Marius falls in love with Eponine (which scarily reminds me of _Romeo and Juliet_ ), I hear a noise behind me, almost like footsteps. I glance behind me, my heart pounding, but I find nothing and Henning doesn’t do much, signaling that it’s probably nothing. By the time we end the movie, it's dark out and I let out a yawn. It's probably only nine o'clock, since we had a late dinner, but nonetheless I'm still worn out.

                “Here, I’ll go get snacks.” Clara yawns in response and I smile down at her, she looks pretty beat too. I stretch as I amble into the kitchen. Clara and Henning are still on the couch, leaving me alone in the dimly lit kitchen. As I open the fridge and take out two strawberry sodas, a blast of freezing air hits my back. The thin white t-shirt covering me doesn’t protect me from the breeze and I shiver both at the temperature and in fear. The fridge doesn’t have that kind of wind power. When I turn around, no one is there and I stand there for a moment, watching the door ways. Nothing is there. As I microwave the large bag of movie theater butter popcorn, my heart rate manages to go down to normal.  The sound of the popcorn bag opening sends Henning rushing in and he immediately gives me his infamous puppy eyes. I toss him a few pieces then pick up the sodas and then sit back down on the couch.

                Clara eagerly sits up and takes her soda, then stuffs her face with some warm popcorn. She mumbles a distorted ‘thanks’ and we both open our sodas. I pick up the _Hobbit_ disk on the table then exchange it for the _Les Miserables_ disk in the DVD player, then plop onto the couch with Henning trying to climb into my lap. I can’t really remember much, but I think I fell asleep half-way through then woke up a few minutes later.

                When the movie finishes, the two of us lazily get up out of our seats and stretch, making weird noises in our throats as we do so. Henning sticks his tongue into the empty popcorn bag and happily laps up the butter on the sides of the bag. Though I quickly  take the bag away from him and dispose of it in the kitchen trashcan. Clara comes in to pick up her bags and then we both head into my bedroom.

                “You can get dressed in the bathroom.”

                “Okay.” She nods and then sets her bag down on the floor to shuffle through the contents. She finds what she’s looking for and then heads into the bathroom attached to my room. Both are styled in the same manner with a dark gray paint color and dark, rosy pink fabrics as well as the occasionally white accent color. I shuffle through my closet and pull out my pajamas consisting of a purple tank top and black yoga pants. I take the hair tie out of my hair and brush it out with my long fingers, then slip off my clothes. A chill washes over me and I shiver.

                “Fuck this, I swear that heater is broken.” I mumble and then pull on my outfit with haste, then when Clara opens the bathroom door, my breathing evens out.

                “I need to brush my teeth. This goddamn retainer traps everything… Care to join me?”

                “Sure.” I smile to myself and watch her as she pulls out her bag of bathroom items, then goes back into the bathroom. Without a single noise, I turn to look over my shoulder, just in case, but no one is there. She pulls out her tooth brush then runs it under the cool tap water before squirting some weird watermelon toothpaste on it and sticking it into her mouth. It’s one of those normal, non-electric ones and only makes a scrubbing sound as it brushes her teeth. I use an electric one and I pull out my cinnamon toothpaste which I squirt on a then stick the brush in my mouth. When we’re both done, I let out a little yawn but freeze once I’m done. The sound of heavy footsteps approaching makes our pupils dilate and my head spins to look at her. They don’t stop and they get louder as the distance between us closes.

                “Henning-“ A chuckle cuts me off and Henning comes running in. Clara shoves the door closed and with shaking fingers, manages to lock the door before running over to where I’ve hidden myself in the bathtub. My dog just sits there, curious as to what we’re doing. She hops in beside me and I notice that I’m shaking too. Every one of my veins is filled with adrenaline and my face has grown pale.

                “What do we do? I don’t have my phone-“ She hisses, a tear has formed in one of her hazel eyes and suddenly the footsteps stop.

                “We’ll think of something.” We’re crouched down in the bathtub and it doesn’t offer much protection, but I still feel safer than if I were to be near the door.

                “Come out little Dia. I know you’re there.” A taunting British voice says from outside the door and I glance over at Clara who’s staring at me, her eyes wide with fear. She shakes her head fervently and I shake my head too, to show her that I’m not going anywhere.

                “Do I have to come in there and get you?” I don’t answer mainly because I can’t. Fear has taken over and my throat is tight with tears. My knuckles grow white from holding the edge of the bathtub to long and suddenly, the door flies into the bathroom cabinets. The large mirror shatters and splinters fly into the air. Our screams fill the air and suddenly a hand grabs my arm, dragging me out of the bathtub. I start screaming at the top of my lungs, my hair flying into my eyes and making them burn in the process. The man tries to grab my other arm, but I’m flailing too much that he can’t catch it.

                "Get off of me-" He squeezes my arm and I let out a yelp, but I still continue to struggle. Before I know it, his grip loosens and I hear Clara trying to yell something at me. Her arms are around his neck, trying to strangle him and her legs are wrapped around his waist. She starts tugging at his slick black hair and he growls.

                "Run, RUN." Her nails have started digging into his scalp and as I blindly yank the door open start to run, I hear a yelp and a sickening noise as someone's head collides with what sounds like the toilet lid. The heavy footsteps indicate that Clara's down and wounded. Henning growls and barks like a mad bomb sniffing dog, I hear a ripping sound and another growl, but this one is human. Another adrenaline surge hits me and I start running towards the front door, my hands fumble with the locks but his hands wrap around my shoulders.

                "Get off-" I yell and scream until my voice is hoarse but he just tugs me against his chest.

                "Keep on screaming all you want, I doubt anyone cares." My limp, shaking body collapses into his arm and I feebly beat my white fist against his strange armor. Sobs wrack my body and I feel my eyes squeeze shut, tears slithering down my cheeks. Through my silent sobs, I feel a rush of air around me and lights start swirling around me. Minutes later, it finally stops and my mind is spinning. The only thing I can piece together is him stroking my cheek.

                "You’re mine now, little Dia.” I slump forward, tears no longer streaming down my cheeks as everything goes black.


	3. No Light, No Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dia Coulson wakes up after being knocked out and the horrors officially begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all of the feedback, I honestly didn't expect it and it's a wonderful surprise! I'll try to post up a new chapter once a week, but if I get a lot of feedback, it might go a lot faster because I know how impatient some people can be. I've set up a little site [here](http://unwillingfic.tumblr.com/) for the character bios and other cool stuff. You can find updates and notes there, you can also leave comments if you'd like. Please comment and tell me what you think! Love you guys and thank you so much for checking this fic out. xx Effie (echo--tango)

                My fingers graze soft silk sheets as I start to regain consciousness. Within seconds of my mind piecing together the puzzle of what the hell is going on, my eyes flick open and I’m blinded by light. Sunlight is pouring in through a large window and reflecting off of the gold walls. The place looks like Versailles only more foreign. I’ve never seen pictures of this place and it’s too beautiful to go unrecognized.  To the left is a large window and a table with two chairs. My eyes take in a gold vanity with a large, oval mirror that displays my reflection. It’s no surprise that I look like shit, but I didn’t think that I had bruised my arms that badly. I quit looking at myself and then let my head turn to the left. There seems a small hallway leading somewhere, but I can’t see much of it. A set of gold closet doors with intricate designs on them are closed tightly. To the right of those, there’s an archway leading to the bathroom. I decide to get up and not waste any time trying to get out. I’m still wearing my yoga pants and tank top, thank God, but they’re a bit torn up and have specks of blood on them.

                I enter the tiny hallway with haste and find a large set of gold doors with, yet again, numerous intricate designs on them. Instinctively, I reach out and tug at the handles, but jump back in surprise at the pain shooting through my hands. I try the handles again but I only receive more pain. When I examine my hands, they’re red and parts of my palm are pealing. I’ve been burned…by a fucking door. There must be a fire outside, it’s the only reasonable explanation.

                I reluctantly turn back around and quietly make my way to the bathroom to wash my hands. My thin socks offer little protection from the freezing granite floor in the bathroom. The floor in the bedroom area was a dark wood of some sort and was warmer than this. The faucet is, you guessed it, made of gold and the water was the perfect temperature. I let the cool water flow over my palms for a few minutes while I just stand there contemplating what’s happening. The pain slowly ebbs away and I once they feel better, I splash a bit of water on my face before reaching for the dark green towel to the left of the sink. It’s so fluffy, almost like puppy fur is caressing my skin. My kidnapper must be filthy rich to afford all of this gold and granite. I mean, he must own quite a few companies in order to pay for all this. I have to applaud him for his hardworking attitude…then again he might have taken the house from some poor ex-Pope in Italy or wherever. At that thought, a small smirk crosses my face and I make my way out to the bedroom where I immediately go to the nightstand on the right side of the bed. When I open the drawers of the gold nightstand, I find nothing. I investigate all of the drawers, nooks, and crannies in the room for a while before finding that there’s nothing of use.

                Turning towards the closet doors, I start ambling over to them, unsure of whether or not I should open them. Despite my gut instinct that my kidnapper is hiding in there, I open the doors to reveal a wide array of silk gowns, tunics, and different pants. The whole closet must be worth a fortune! There must be at least fifteen dresses in there. More than fifteen pairs of elegant shoes lie on the floor in perfect rows and columns. The tunics and pants are hung up in sets, making it easy to find the perfect outfit. The shelf above the rack holds numerous boxes, I eagerly take one down. When I gently take off the lid, I’m surprised to find an intricate gold crown with emeralds set into random spots. It’s beautiful, but I put it back, who knows where it’s been. Maybe my kidnapper is a jewel thief too.

                A noise near the doors makes my heart rate jump tenfold and I close the closet doors behind me, then lean against them. A pair of footsteps approach and I find a little red head girl dressed in a simple white gown greeting me with a small head bow. She wears a gentle smile on her face and her eyes have little joy in them, I start to wonder why, but her voice cuts my thoughts short.

                “Hello, I am your maid while you stay here. You are Lady Dia, I presume?” I nod, my brows creased slightly. She looks like she’s thirteen but speaks like she’s from the Tudors era.

                “You can just call me Dia.”

                “Alright…Lady Dia. I will bring you your lunch once the Prince arrives. Do you need assistance with getting dressed?”

                “Wait, who’s this Prince?”

                “Oh yes, you are Midgardian-“

                “What?”

                “Human, a mortal. I’m referring to Prince Loki. He is the youngest of the two Asgardian princes. Your new home is here, in Asgard with the Prince.”

                “What?” I breath out. After a short silence,  I shake my head in disbelief. “There’s no such thing as Asgard. There’s no such thing as immortality. This joke is so-“

                “I am not joking, you’ll see soon enough.”

                “Pardon me?”

                “The Prince will show you his magic, he’s quite clever and talented. I’d love for him to show me magic. You’re very lucky.”

                “I have no clue what this Asgard business is about, but you have to let me out of here.”

“I-I-I don’t think I can…” As she opens the doors to run out of the room, presumably to avoid even more questioning, and I bolt for them. When I barely cross the threshold, I fly back onto the floor, my elbows colliding with the wooden floors.

                “AH FUCKING SHIT.” My pained voice echoes through my room and Kenna closes the door before bending over me.

                “Are you hurt?”

                “N-No, I don’t think so. But that was painful.”

                “It’s magic. The Prince is a skilled magician, a well-known trickster in the palace.”

                “Well tell him he can go to fucking hell for doing that.” I groan and stumble up into a standing position, then mope around before I flop onto the bed, my head still reeling with this strange new reality.

                “I don’t think he would enjoy hearing those words from either of us. I will be back soon.” Once she’s gone, I groan and rub my elbow.

 

                In all honesty, I don’t know how much time has passed by. I’ve been lying on this floor contemplating the meaning of life and what the hell I’ve gotten into. Surely Dad is looking for me. Someone must have heard the fight and Clara… I hope she’s alright. By the sound of...that, she’s probably in a coma. Tears start brimming in my eyes and the door swings open, so I quickly brush them away. It’s only my maid and she’s come back with a silver tray with plenty of food on the gold plates.

                “What are you doing down there?”

                “I didn’t want to get up.”

                “Well you should get dressed in something more appropriate.”

                “Like what?” I scoff as I stand up to let her by.

                “One of the gowns in the closet. Perhaps you’ll be able to please him even more if you dress in something green…and sheer.”

                “What?”  
                “Never mind, though I advise you to put on a gown. You look very strange in that outfit, at least, by our standards.” I stand there watching her for a moment as she places the tray carefully in the middle of the table and then takes the plates and the strange goblets off, then places the silverware and napkins beside them. She adjusts everything, then takes the tray away. Kenna turns towards me and I’m still standing there, still puzzled and annoyed with the so called “Asgardian Standards”.

                “He’ll be arriving soon, you should hurry up.”

                “Fine.” I say, then stomp off towards the closet in a stubborn manner. My eyes follow her as she exits and once again, I’m left alone with my thoughts and a shitload of dresses.

                In all honesty, I think I’m handling this well. My thoughts have become calmer and I’m able to open the doors to pick out a dress without my fingers shaking. I sift through the dresses and pick out a long, pine tree green dress. Then I pick out a pair of black ballet flats that look like they’re made out of silk and a small piece of fabric for the bottom. These clothes are nothing like…normal human things. I feel like I’m back in the Renaissance Era and I should see Shakespeare or Queen Elizabeth entering the room with their crazy outfits. As I laugh at the ridiculous thought of Queen Elizabeth wearing such a plain, somewhat skimpy dress, I start undressing myself. Assessing my wounds is easy, I barely have any. Most of the scratches and bruises are on my arms and shoulders. There’s probably a bruise on my back and a few of my hairs have fallen out as well as a scratch on my cheek and a bloody lip, but they aren’t life threatening. I easily slip the gown and shoes on, then fold my old clothes up and place them in a corner of the closet. I intend to keep them.

                I close the large doors and make my way over to the table. I can’t feel the cold floor when wearing these shoes, but nonetheless, I miss my socks. I don’t know why, but I do. It’s all so foreign to me. My fingers glide against the wooden table that must be handmade. It has crevices and uneven areas, which makes it so beautiful. With a growling stomach, I slowly lower myself into the wooden chair (at least it has a plush green cushion). I set my elbows on its armrests and stare at the plate in front of me. It consist of mashed potatoes, some weird beans in an orange sauce, turkey or some sort of poultry, and a role of bread with butter on the side. Just as I reach for a fork, the doors swing open and in walks someone who I’ve seen before. It’s my kidnapper. I knew he’d make an appearance sooner or later.

                “How do you like your new home?” He asks in a lovely British accent, but it doesn’t change my opinion of him.

                “It’s alright, but my old home is better.” He gives me a stony glare and I regret my words.

                “You will get used to it soon enough.”

                “I want to go home.” I stand up, clenching my fists.

                “This is your home, Dia.” His towering frame starts closing in on me. Each step he takes brings him closer to me and it brings me closer to me approaching death.

                “This will never be my home. You’ve kidnapped me from damn New York City and you expect me to just accept this? Ha, I don’t think so. New York is my home. Asgard is not my home nor will it eve-“ His hand colliding with my cheek cuts me off and I let out a stifled cry.

                “Rule number one: You will _never_ talk to me in such a- a sassy manner such as this one. Do so and you will ultimately regret it.” I feel his eyes shooting daggers at my hunched figure. After a moment, or so, I straighten back up while still holding a hand to my cheek.

                “I’m not going to obey you of-“ He slaps me again, which I honestly should’ve expected.

                “I am Loki of Asgard and you will obey me, my little Dia. If you don’t, then you’ll soon learn.” I hunch over again while clutching my cheek. Tears are streaming down my redden cheeks and I hear him chuckle. “Now let us eat.” Just as I straighten up for the second time, he sits down in the chair nearest the bed. My wounded pride makes it hard to look at him as I sit down in my own chair. I stare at my food and reach for the napkin, which I place in my lap, and the fork which I poke into the potatoes first. They’re the most familiar looking food to me so I stick them in my mouth and chew. I didn’t expect much of them, but they’re really good.

                Soon enough, I finish the potatoes and feel him staring at me as I eat. My eyes drift up and he’s still watching me intently. I bend my head back down and butter the roll which I proceed to chew slowly. I look up again and now he’s focusing on the beans on his plate. We don’t say anything until I ask him what kind of meat is on the plate.

                “I believe it is direwolf.”

                “Like from _Game of Thrones_?” I perk up slightly even though my cheek is incredibly sore.

                “I am not sure what that is.”

                “Oh…well never mind.” I shake my head and start cutting into the meat. I find the meat to be salty and slightly chewy, it’s just okay. We’re quiet for the rest of the meal and I don’t dare touch the orange colored vegetables on the plate. I think they might have eyes, but I don’t want to look at them. They’re color makes me want to vomit.

                When he’s finished with his meal, he carefully sets his napkin down on the table and I do the same. My eyes are mysteriously drawn to the window and I take in the sight of the golden city of Asgard. I’m still not completely sure if I’m dreaming…but I doubt that I am.

                “Do you like the city?” I nod slowly, still looking out the window.

                “Yeah, it’s nice.” There’s a garden almost directly beneath the window, but it’s at least three stories down. It’s more like eight stories down and there’s a large fountain in the middle. The paths seem to be made of gravel and there are large hedges separating it  from the rest of the city. It must be the palace garden or something of that sort. “That’s a beautiful garden.” I murmur, smiling down at the figures below in the garden.

                “It is my mother’s.” He doesn’t offer any more details and I don’t press the issue. After minutes of silence, I finally speak.

                “I guess…I guess I’ll go to bed.” I stand up and smooth down my dress, but as I start to cross the room towards my bed, he grabs my wrist.

                “And I’ll be coming with you.”

                “Wait- what no. No, y-you aren’t.” I try to tug my wrist away, but he has a firm grip on it and it feels like it’s turning blue and purple with a possible hint of dark red.

                “Yes I am.” He stands up as he says this and one fowl swoop, he grabs my other wrist and manages to pull me against his chest.[  
](http://unwillingfic.tumblr.com/)

                “Get the fuck off- Stop, wh-what are you doing?” My boobs are squished against his gold armor and I try to shove myself away as his lips manage to collide with mine. I keep them shut and squeeze my eyes closed. I don’t want to look into his cold turquoise ones. The sensation sends frightening shivers down my spine and to my surprise, I feel a hot tear trickle down my cheek. He pulls back and once again, I try to fling myself away, but he holds tight. A smirk spreads on his thin, pink lips and it widens as I continue to struggle. My feet shuffle on the cold floors and I look away towards the floor, trying  to maneuver my way out of his grip. Like I expected, it’s no use. His teeth graze my jaw line and I yelp in surprise when he moves to nibble my earlobe.

                “P-please, stop-“ With catlike reflexes, he manages to force me to walk to the edge of the bed in an almost dance like movement. His hands grab hold of my bare shoulders and he pins me to the bed. The sound of ripping cloth sends me into a screaming frenzy and my heart continues racing. Adrenaline pulses wildly through my veins and my eyes squeeze shut once I take in my bare form beneath his fully clothed body.

                “Are enjoying this, little one?” I strangled wail erupts from my throat and with a golden flash of light, I open my eyes to find that his armor is gone.

                “No no, no, no-“ I flip myself onto my stomach and claw at the sheets, trying to crawl across the bed away from his approaching form.

                “You won’t get anywhere.” His nails claw into my hips and he pulls me closer to him, then flips me over. Pain rips through me and suddenly, it feels like my world has ended. I’m not there, I’m just lying there thrashing about and screaming, but my mind is blank. All I can think is, “what did I do to deserve this?”. His hips grind against mine and a breathy chuckle escapes his lips.

                “This is your new reality, my pet.” And just like that, darkness envelopes me like a blanket.


	4. Where the Lonely Ones Roam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dia is trying to cope with her new surroundings and unfortunate circumstances, meanwhile on Earth, Clara has just woken up from a coma and "FBI Agent" Maria Hill enters the picture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has left a bit of love for me, I'm so glad that you like it! There will be a few chapters that focus on Coulson and the other characters...and yes, I've added other fandom characters in. If, at the end of this whole amazing story, I get a lot of good feedback, I might do a small sequel. Hehehehehehe.  
> xx Effie  
>  **There is an explanation of some of the stuff that I haven't cleared up[RIGHT HERE.](http://unwillingfic.tumblr.com/post/53820811849/a-few-explanations)**

**Dia Coulson**

                My eyes are glassed over with tears, my body aches like it’s been run over by a steam roller, and I just feel so dead inside. I’ve never felt so awful, so shitty like I do now. Loki is sound asleep next to me even though it’s early in the morning and a bit of sun is peaking through the window. I must have passed out last night because I can’t remember much of the attack and when I woke up, it was around four in the morning. Now it’s six and my eyes are dry from keeping them open for so long. My neck is incredibly stiff from listening for any movement from his still body. He looks content, God knows I’m not.

                Eventually, an hour later, I creep out of bed. Slowly at first, then I practically leap towards the bathroom in hopes to clean myself and hide from him. I jerk to stop at the closet doors, pick out a simple long dress and then continue running into the bathroom. I turn on the shower that sits across from the toilet in the right corner furthest from the door. My mind is filled with fear and anxiety, frightening thoughts and images make me quake with fear as I quickly strip down to nothing. I feel so vulnerable and once I’m in the shower, I start scrubbing away at my skin. My thighs are stained with blood and my hair is tangled with a few specks of blood staining my face. A scratch on my jaw is starting to scab over and I gently scrub my face once I’m done with my lower half of my body. When I crane my neck to check my back for any bruises or scratches, I wince when I feel a few bruises on my neck. My fingers trace over them so carefully and I find that they’re teeth marks. The embarrassment floods back and before I know it, I’m on the shower floor in a sobbing fit. The cold tile against my back becomes warm from my body heat, tears come raining down my cheeks as my hair sticks to every inch of my face. _This is your new reality, my pet._ That line drains the life from me, it’s stuck on repeat in my head.

                When the water eventually grows cold and every inch of me has been washed, I stand up on shaky pale legs. I tuck myself into a towel and sit down on the edge of the bathtub in order to keep myself from falling over. My hair eventually air dries from the amount of time I’ve spent sitting there just staring at the granite floors. While still on the edge of the tub, I reach over for my dress that I hung up in awkward manner on the towel rack. I slip into it, all while sitting down, then continue to sit there for ages.

                “What are you doing up so early?” He’s slipped past my radar and I jump, a small cry of fear escaping my lips.

                “I-I wanted t-to take a shower.”

                “Fair enough… Breakfast will be here soon.” He quickly closes the gap between us and he presses his lips to my neck as fear pulsates through my veins. “You were lovely last night.” A few tears struggle to make their way down my cheek, but he quickly wipes them away with a single thin finger.

                “Were you not satisfied?” I vigorously shake my head ‘no’. “And why not?”

                “I-I didn’t want it.”

                “You did not want me to make love to you-“

                “I wouldn’t call hurting me making love.” I sniffle and his brow creases in annoyance and anger.

                “You’re going to have to get used to it, my little Dia.”

                “P-p-please, don’t call me that.”

                “Would you like me to call you ‘my pet’ instead?” I shake my head ‘no’ again and continue to look down at my bare feet, trying not to outright sob in front of him. I twiddle my toes and he walks away, out the room and out of sight. That’s when I break down. Tears hit my knees, staining the silky purple fabric that my dress is made out of. I stare at the tears staining my dress and so many feelings rush through my brain. Anger, fear, embarrassment, and sadness. It’s kind of like watching a really depressing movie that makes you want to kill yourself because it shows how awful the world really is.

 

 

**Clara Hill**

                When I come to, I’m lying in a hospital bed. There must be a thousand tubes, needles, and IV bags in the room. My head pounds relentlessly and my violent choking on the tube in my throat makes it worse. A male nurse dressed in purple scrubs runs up to my side and says something, then the tube is gone. Thank God. I choke and gasp for air, then my vision blurs. Aunt Maria rushes over, her normally neat brown hair is out of its usual extremely tight bun and is flying all over the place as she grabs my hand.

                “I thought you’d never wake up.” Tears start dripping down her cheek, and I realize that I’ve never seen her cry. Not once. Possibly at my mother’s funeral, but I was seven then and I don’t remember much. My older sister, Riley, slowly approaches the foot of my hospital bed and she gives me a gentle smile.

                “Do you remember anything?” Maria prods, eagerly clutching my hand with the needle in it as if expecting some sort of miracle to spill out of my mouth.

                “I tried to save her.” My voice is hoarse and weak, but I manage to continue speaking. “How long have I been out?”

                “A little over a week, we thought,” She breaks off and looks down, “We thought you were gone.”

                “Auntie’s been at your bedside the whole time. It took a lot of convincing to get her out of here.” I give them both a small smile then close my eyes and let out a little sigh.

                “When can I get out?”

                “You’ve only just woken up, kiddo!” Riley bursts out laughing and I smile a little, but then I remember, Dia isn’t here.

                “Have you found her yet?” Auntie slowly shakes her head and a solemn air fills the room. “Any leads?”

                “Coulson and a New York detective have been working on it.  They’ve got a whole team together to find her, a-and we will.”

                “I’m even part of it. I’ve been put in charge of taking care of you. Now how about something to eat. Soup maybe?” Riley sits down on the left side of the bed and I grin at her, despite the overwhelming urge of wanting to get up and run out of here to find my friend. We’ve been best friends since preschool, attached to each other like leaches since we met. She’s like a second limb to me, the person I can always count on to be there. Now she’s just gone, just like that.

                “So, can you remember anything? I don’t mean to press, but we need as much information as soon as possible.” I frown and think for a moment, wracking my injured brain for an answer. I hit my head on the toilet defending my best friend from some intruder in gold armor…. Armor?

                “Armor. He was wearing gold and green armor.”

                “Who? The medieval knight-“

                “I’m serious, he was really tall and had long hair.”

                “That’s good, that’s a good description. I’ll go tell Coulson. Once you’re properly healed, then I’ll let the team do a proper interview.” Maria stands up and gently strokes my arm like a mother would, a gentle smile creasing her tired face. Most of the time, she doesn’t smile or laugh. She was a marine before she joined the FBI. She hasn’t lost that marine attitude.

                “Alright, I guess… Hey, can I go to the cafeteria?”

                “If the nurse says that it’s okay, but I’ll strap you into wheelchair if you try to stand up.”

                “Don’t worry, I won’t try.”

 

                Two days later, I actually manage to convince them to let me go to the cafeteria, but it took a long time. I was able to convince them to let me change into my own sweatpants and tank top, but it took a lot of maneuvering. Riley had to help me with wiggling around and my balance is really off. My head has been throbbing on and off and a little while after I woke up from my coma, then I had a huge migraine. Riley almost beat the nurses up because they wouldn’t give me the high strength pain meds that could help. I threw up four times in the course of a day because of the migraine and vision was blurry until it finally went away. Lucky for me, I’m feeling much better today and they’re letting Maria wheel me to the cafeteria. I plan on going out to the garden too, at least, if they don’t catch me. As much as I’m missing Dia, I’m more concerned about my health and getting the fuck out of here.

                Speaking of out of here, the male nurse in purple scrubs has come into my room to help me into a wheelchair. I do my best to sit up without wobbling, but it doesn’t really work. He lowers the bed and I stand up, despite him protesting, and plop into the wheelchair. I think he’s frowning, but I’m not going to strain my neck just to see his expression. He hooks the saline bag to the IV pole attached to the chair, and I let out a little content sigh. I’m going to escape this hellhole of a room and see the outside world! Eat real food! Or maybe, just soup.

                “Wait just a minute, hun.” The nurse says in a tone that says ‘I’m gay and proud’. He’s pretty cool, a lot nicer than the nurse that wouldn’t let me change my clothes. (He’s also quite the cutie, like the guy who plays Spock in the new _Stark Trek_ movies.) He leaves me in my wheelchair  in my room with the curtain drawn. Footsteps approach and then disappear, but two sets coming towards me are talking to each other.

                “Look, Phil, he’s back. He’s taken her for revenge-“ It’s Maria and Agent Coulson, whispering to each other, but they aren’t doing a very good job of keep whatever they’re talking about a secret.

                “We can’t be sure, he’s locked up. Isn’t he?”

                “We need to call in Thor and Jane, they’ll know what to do.”

                “I…I just can’t believe this…”

                “Why don’t you go home and have a rest? Hang out with Miranda, watch TV, leave it to us.”

                “A-Are you gonna debrief Benson on the whole…Tesseract ordeal?” His voice is even more hushed than before and I have to feebly wheel myself to the left a little more to hear what they’re saying.

                “I have to if Loki’s involved.” A little sob can be heard and my heart sinks. I can’t imagine what’s going through his head. First with his wife and now Dia is somewhere unknown. The poor guy.

                “Are you going to tell Clara?”

                “No…not yet… Next week. I don’t want her to be too overwhelmed.” Too late Aunt Maria, too late. Some guy named Loki has kidnapped my best friend and apparently it’s a big deal. He must be some underground mob boss or something, with a name like that and the fact that I’ve never heard of him. Phil and Maria can find him and beat him to a pulp easily… Right? Of course they can, they’re fearless warriors. Suddenly, the curtain is drawn aside and I look up to see Maria has finally changed out of her pair of jeans and t-shirt into her normal FBI agent attire. Khaki pants, white blouse, navy blue jacket with ‘Federal Agent’ on the back of it along with a pair of black leather combat boots that I absolutely adore. My head starts throbbing, but I ignore it

                “If you’re feeling okay after lunch, would you be up to answering Coulson’s questions?”

                “Yeah.” I give a little nod, avoiding moving my head too much.

                “Okay, good. You want me to take you down?”

                “Yes, please. I’m super hungry.”

                “Well that’s good. You’ve been so out of it for the past week. I’m sure you’re tired of the liquid food that they’ve been forcing down your throat.”

                “Totally.”

                We’re quiet as she wheels me through the hospital, her boots make slapping noises as she walks. Even though I can’t see her and can’t turn my head much, I know that she’s in her ‘power stance’. Straight back, chin tilted up, firm grip, walking with a purpose, and a mostly emotionless face.. It’s Maria Hill’s notable walk. Agent Coulson walks like that too sometimes, but he usually is more slack and has a smile on his face. Maria has been through more than he has, what with being a marine, having her sister (my mom) and her parents die, then being forced to raise Riley and I all while being a super-secret spy. It takes its toll and it’s noticeable.

                When we reach the cafeteria, she informs me that she’ll push me around so I can see what food they have, then she’ll get it all for me while I sit at a table. I agree with her, it’s safer to let her handle the food. I can barely wheel myself around with the IV in my hand and my motor skills (and possibly my judgment) impaired. And with that agreement, she pushes me through the rather nice cafeteria. I decide on a hotdog and a salad with broccoli on the side along with Caesar salad dressing, and an orange Fanta, one of my favorite sodas. She gives me a slight frown when I ask for soda, but reluctantly agrees, then parks me at a table nearest the cafeteria. With the little head movement that I can manage, I survey the eating area. It’s around two o’clock, so there’s not many people here. A few old people are spread about at their own tables. A pair of nurses are sitting together eating salads and a doctor joins them. The wall furthest from where I’m sitting it made up entirely of windows and allows plenty of sunlight to flood through. There’s an eating area outside and I have the urge to go outside. It’s probably really cold out considering that we’re in New York (right, New York? I think?) and it’s late February. The flowers probably aren’t in bloom, but I want to go out there and just sit in the garden… I’m feeling awfully depressed, even more so than before. Dia’s gone, I have (I think) a concussion, I was in a coma, and for all we know, Dia could be dead. I think I have the right to be depressed.

                Aunt Maria brings me out of my deep thoughts when she slides a tray of food in front of me. Everything I asked for is laid out on the tray and she has a diet Coke for herself. The reason why I know this is because she doesn’t drink much of anything else. She watches me take my first bite of the hotdog as she sips her drink and then when she swallows, she mumbles something to herself then looks back at me.

                “I’m gonna get you a water, I don’t think you should be drinking soda-“

                “But Aun-“

                “I don’t want you throwing up all over the place. It’s either water of ginger ale.” I pout and think for a minute.

                “Fine, ginger ale.” I stick my lip out and she stands up, then I reluctantly continue eating my hot dog. When I think she isn’t look, I take a gulp of my soda and smirk to myself, but suddenly, she pulls it out of my hand and retreats to the soda area. Damn it. She quickly comes back and hands me a watery ginger ale. It makes me frown and want to throw up, but I reluctantly drink it with my meal.

                It takes me a while to finish everything, but when I do, I smile to myself and lean back in my wheelchair. I’m quite happy and comfortably full of good food.

                “Do you think you’re ready for Coulson to interview you?”

                “Sure…I guess.” I shrug and she gives me a gentle smile, then takes the tray to the trash, but lets me keep my drink. While she’s there, she pulls out her phone, mumbles something into it, then comes back to me.

                “He’ll be down in a few minutes.” I nod and take a sip of my drink.

                “Can you wheel me over to the window. I’m getting kind of cold.” I’ve been cold for the past hour considering that I’m in just a tank top and sweatpants.

                “Alright, the sun will be good for you.” She flicks the brakes up and wheels me over to the window near the exit to the patio. I have a good few of a few sad blooming plants, and as the sun shines on them, I watch a few insects and animals make their way through the plants. I must have been staring at them for a good ten minutes, because when I look up, I see Phil looking at me with a concerned face.

                “Hi.” I give him a small smile and he smiles back, but it’s obvious that he’s worn out and has been sobbing violently in the past few hours. I feel a bit guilty that I haven’t cried over Dia’s disappearance, but I shove that thought aside. “You wanted to talk to me?”

                “Yeah, if that’s alright.”

                “It’s fine, I don’t mind at all.”

                “Okay, uhm, can you tell me what happened? Don’t leave out any details.” I tell him the story of that night, how we watched a few movies and I heard footsteps but didn’t mention it to Dia at the time, and how I was in the bathroom when Dia came in all panicked. I tell him everything that I can remember, which probably isn’t much. I’ve lost a few memories of that night and there are a couple blank patches from before that night too.

                “What did the man look like?”

                “He was uhm tall with weird gold armor. It wasn’t like knight armor, it was more elaborate…And he had a cape too. H-he looked kind of funny…and he had a British accent.”

                “Is that all?” I think for a minute, then gingerly nod while looking down at my lap.

                “I think so…I think I’ve lost a few memories…I can’t remember some parts of that night and before. W-will I ever get the memories back? W-w-will we get Dia back?”

                “They’ll all come back,” He purses his lips and nods, “I know we will. No matter how long it takes.”

 

**Dia Coulson**

                The week goes by quickly. It’s a complete complicated blur of pain and humiliation. Every single night was filled with agony and tears. Every time I started sobbing hysterically, Loki would slap me across the cheek with such force that it knocked me to the ground. Every time he slams me against the bed, I struggle until I grow limp and then after, I run to the bathroom and scrub my skin. I doesn’t help how awful I feel. I don’t want to sound so…so poetic and depressed, but I’m depressed. Everything I love is gone, the only company I have is that monster and my maid, who doesn’t visit often mainly because the he’s in the room, watching over me.

                I don’t sleep much, the nightmares and his hands just touching me keep me awake, but sometimes I can’t distinguish the difference. The only thing keeping me alive is my fear of death. As much as I hate this, as much as I want to die, I just can’t do it. I could drown myself, hit my head against a wall, stab myself, suffocate myself…but I can get through this.

                Tonight, he keeps me up later than usual. Bruises line my back, shoulders, neck, and breasts. He’s sound asleep and by the sound of his light snoring, he seems content. I shift slightly and my bare back touches his. I cringe and scoot away so that I’m about to fall of the bed, but I don’t. I cling to the sheets and my down filled pillows so I don’t fall splat onto the ground. The sudden movement of him shifting in bed makes my heart race, I bury my face into my pillow and close my eyes. He turns over and it’s obvious that he’s awake. A soft hand touches my spine and Goosebumps ripple upon my back, I start uncontrollably shaking as his hands traces the outline of my spine.

                “Do you crave my touch?” His voice is just a whisper as he starts to scoot over so he can lean in closer to me.

                “No.”

                “You will soon enough.” He puts a remarkably gentle hand on my cold arm and presses his lips against my shoulder. This loving and gentle act won’t be on for long. I open my eyes and in the dim moonlight streaming through the windows, I watch his arm wrap around my waist and pull me closer. My hands wrap around my pillow and I squeeze my eyes shut again. The feel of his warm breath against my shoulder sends shivers up my spine, but they aren’t the good kind. They aren’t the kind that you get when you listen to good music or are incredibly happy. These are the ones that you get when you’re fearing for your life, running from something that wants to rip you to shreds and eat your flesh.

                “I know you are scared, but don’t be. Obey my every word and I won’t harm you.” He sets his hand on my waist, then rubs my side gently. His cold hands against my pale flesh make more Goosebumps erupt and I blush with shame

                “Don’t hide your flushed cheeks. I enjoy seeing them.” It takes a bit of effort for him to snake around my body and kiss my cheeks. I try to bury my face into my pillow, but I can tell he’s getting a little more than annoyed. Suddenly, in a small fit of anger, he flips me over. I lose my tight grip on my pillow and I scream, my cheeks red and my throat tight as he suddenly starts ripping my nightgown off. Shredded golden fabric flies to the floor and I thrash about, snapping my head to the side as he tries to kiss my lips. Instead of forcing my head back into place, he nips at my jawline and neck.

                “Though I do have to admit, I enjoy it when you fight back.” Another nip and a rougher one breaks the skin. A bit of blood trickles down the left side of my neck and I stop my thrashing. I just lay there as stiff as a board as he kisses me. “Now I know what Tyr was referring too, the thrill of having your prey fight back.” His dark chuckle followed by more of a rough bite makes me shriek and I try to struggle out of his grasp again. My blonde hair sticks to my tear-stained face.

                “Stop- please just stop-“ I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of my sobbing, but I can’t help it. He lets out a primal growl and with quite a few painful bends, along with a couple of joints cracking, he flips me onto my back then awkwardly shoves my hands up above my head. Loki lets his nails drag along my backside and I twist as he digs into my hips. With a painful joint crack, I turn my head to the right so I can breath and just as I do so, he grabs my hips, violently bending my knees so my butt is in the air. For a minute, I want to laugh. This only happens in movies. This only happens in shows like _Law and Order_. It doesn’t happen to normal girls like me. Normal girls like me don’t get raped by psychos. Normal girls don’t let psychos spank them while they start sobbing like blubbering idiots. Normal girls aren’t supposed to be in this type of shit.


	5. Follow the Lead, Do What it Takes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coulson's friends get together to form a team to help find his missing daughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please keep leaving feedback! It really helps me write. I'm trying to use this for my Camp Nano novel, but I don't know how that will go down. Here's the [novel playlist](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLnDCFk1u2TwMLObZHM_yVz7fs0biLL7gA&feature=mh_lolz) and it updates daily. Then [here's the site](http://unwillingfic.tumblr.com/) where you can find cool stuff. Hope you guys enjoy, and if you do (or don't) leave a message. It means the world to me that people are actually reading this. Love you guys. xx Effie  
> PS. In all technicality, this is a huge crossover fic, but I'm not going to categorize it as that. The people will include: Olivia Benson and Dr. Huang (SVU), Sam and Dean Winchester (Supernatural), Tom Quinn (MI5/Spooks), Michael Weston, Sam Axe, and Fiona Glennan (Burn Notice), and Gibbs and possibly his team (NCIS). And yes, SHIELD just fucks with everyone's brains.

                At SHIELD, as well as many other government agencies, loyalty knows no bounds. The longer you’ve been friends with an agent, the more willing you are to kill people to protect them (and sometimes their family too). Maria Hill knows this well, she’ll do anything for Coulson and his family. Coulson would do anything for Maria and her own family, or rather, her makeshift family consisting of her two nieces and a cat with one eye. Maria and Coulson share similar pasts, dead parents and dead or out casted siblings. The only difference being that Coulson had a family with Dia and his wife, Claire, but then his wife died in a shooting outside of a courthouse. Maria has never fallen in love, she decided at an early age that she didn’t want to fall in love, she’s stayed single ever since. Of course, she’s gone undercover numerous times and has had a few one night stands, but nothing major, nothing happy and life changing. Of course, the whole ‘no family and no husband’ plan went down the drain when her sister died, leaving Maria in charge of Clara, Riley, and the one-eyed cat named Pudding. She didn’t shed a tear at the funeral and she minded the intrusion on her well-constructed life, but she welcomed them with open arms.

                When Clara woke up from her coma after being thrown off Loki’s back, Maria shed a few tears, which is rare for her. She felt emotion, something she had pushed away for years. Clara liked to playfully say that Maria’s like Spock from _Star Trek_ , emotionless and quite talented in many aspects. Maria had watched her niece’s eyes open and realized how right she was. She shows no emotions because that’s what she was trained to do. She keeps her distance to save herself…but today, she’s decided that maybe she should show a little compassion for Phil.

                “Hey, uhm Phil, can I talk to you for a sec?” She doesn’t bother to knock on the door to their designated SHIELD conference room. Assistant Directors don’t need to knock on doors, unless they are bedroom doors, though SHIELD agents aren’t known to have sexual, interagency relationships.

                “Sure.” He puts his pen down next to the papers that he’s working on, but she has the sneaking suspicion that he isn’t working, just scribbling things down. She had noticed earlier on in the week, soon after Dia was kidnapped, that he didn’t think about anything else other than finding Dia then killing Loki in some brutal manner to stop it from happening again.

                “I know this is really hard for you…and I just think it would be best if you take a break. Spend time with Miranda, at home, off the case. Let us handle it-“

                “I’m not letting this son of a bitch get away, I’m staying on it.”

                “I don’t think that’s best for you… I know it’s your decision, but if it gets to the point where you really shouldn’t be investigating, I will have to put you on temporary leave.” She watches him for a moment as he just stares at his paperwork, then he puts his forehead in one hand and sighs.

                “I thought it was over when they went back to Asgard…” His voice breaks slightly and he closes his eyes, trying not to cry. _Damn, maybe I should take him off the case before he has a mental breakdown._

                “Everyone thought that, but with this...this is different. He’s back and we need to find him.”

                “Do you think he’s going to hurt anyone else?”

                “I can’t say…we’ll have to wait for that FBI psychologist to come over-“

                “Hey, uh, can we come in?”

                “Mike,” Phil clears his throat and looks up to see Maria leaning towards him, her hands braced on the black table, “Come on in, it’s great to see you.”

                “Same here, though, not under these circumstances. We’ll help you as much as we can.” With a little sigh, Maria ruffles her straight, brown bangs and turns around to see a small group in the doorway.

                “Thanks, thank you so much.”

                “No problem, I mean, Sam and I owe you for saving our asses in Guatemala.”

                “Who knew a vacationing government agent could have that many bullets and guns stuffed in one suitcase.” Sam Axe squeezes into the room behind Michael Weston and smiles. “Hey there.” He gives a little hand motioned to Maria. “Who’re you?”

                “Assistant Director Maria Hill.” She says in her normal stern voice. Her backs straightens automatically and she folds her arms over her chest, feeling slightly wearing of Sam’s already wandering eyes.

                “Mike says you’re a fellow gun enthusiast.” Fiona Glennan gently nudges the pair aside and steps through to face Maria, then holds out her hand. “Fiona Glennan, nice to meet you.”

                “Same.” The pair shake hands, but even then, Maria doesn’t show much emotion, just a weak, strained smile.

                “Oh, hello, I’m guessing this is where the agents on the Coulson case are meeting.” The three move to the side to reveal a tall man with dark black hair and a lean frame. Compared the gun-loving, ex-spy group that stands in the doorway, he seems fairly normal. No gun strapped to him, though it’s entirely possible that he has on in a thigh holster under his nice suit pants. Fiona seems to have the only pair of eyes wandering down that far.

                “Hey, nice to see ya Tom,” Phil stands up, a small smile on his face, “Tom Quinn, meet Mike Weston, Sam Axe, and Fiona Glennan.”

                “It’s a pleasure.” He nods to them, then stuffs his hands in his pockets and then walks over to Phil. Leaning in, he whispers something in his ear that is inaudible to everyone else.

                “Look, I have absolutely no bloody clue what this place is, but I’m assuming that you’re also a government spook and have been lying to me for quite some time.”

                “You seem surprised.” Maria says, obviously eavesdropping.

                “Well yes, I am. I didn’t expect Americans to lie this much.” He stands up straight and turns to face her, then folds his arms over his chest to mimic her stance.

                “We do it to protect civilians, you of all people should know this. How many potential terrorist attacks have you hidden from the British populace?”

                “Wait, no- no fighting. We’ve come together to find my daughter, not argue about government spooks.”

                “Sorry, I just get a little bristly when people insult agents of MI5.”

                “MI5? Really?” They all turn, most of them raise their eyebrows at how another member of the group has been added. The tall woman takes her police badge off of her belt and shows it to them, to prove her identity.“Detective Olivia Benson, New York special victim’s unit.” She hooks it back onto her belt and then nods her head towards the Asian man next to her. “This is Dr. George Huang, FBI psychologist.” Dr. Huang just  nods to the group then enters, going to the side of the room opposite Mike’s group.

                “Special victims? Never heard of it.”

                “We investigate sex crimes. Pedophiles, abuse case, that sort.” They all nod, understanding the sensitive nature.

                “Do you think this is a sex crime?” Olivia’s eyes dart towards Phil, then she reluctantly gives a slow nod.

                “It’s possible, but she’s not here to tell us and there’s no evidence pointing to it. Either way, I was told to report here to help investigate, oh, and to drag Dr. Huang into this.” An awkward silence hangs in the room before Maria decides to speak up.

                “Okay, everyone sit down so we can start the debriefing. You all are the only ones we’re expecting-“

                “Wait, Fury’s not in on this?”

                “Apparently, he has other matters to attend to. Anyway, coffee is at the table to your right and once everyone is settled, then we can start discussing the case.” Mike, Fiona, and Sam all sit down on the side nearest the relatively large wall of windows looking out onto an alley way. Tom grabs a cup of black coffee and sits down next to Phil, who has moved to the head of the table, the one facing the door. Maria sits on the left of him, the Olivia and Dr. Huang both sit next to Tom. He lets out a small yawn and Olivia gives him a smile.

                “Long flight?”

                “Oh God, yes. Horrendous.” He chuckles and takes a sip of coffee, then lets out a contented sigh. His lips press into a thin smile, his fingertips digging into his forehead to ease his approaching headache. A minute or so later, Maria passes the copies of the case file around so that each person has one. Some of them reach for a pen in the container in the middle of the table.

                “First off, we need to get something straight. This is not an ordinary government agency. You’re right Agent Quinn, this we’re spooks, even more invisible than MI5. We don’t get talked about and we never intend to get into the news.” Everyone straightens up, and their faces grow even more serious. “That meteor crash in the news…the pictures of that event are in this file.” The folders flip open and pictures of fires, car crashes, and the aliens that attacked New York are shown in the multiple photos. They each flip through them, one at a time. A picture of Loki here, a picture of the Avengers there, and then a picture of the Tesseract. Maria quietly curses to herself and regrets not forcing them all to board the Helicarrier. It would make showing the pictures easier than just passing photographs around, if she had a projector, she could’ve easily showed videos and gone through PowerPoints with all of the pictures on different slides.

                “What the hell?”

                “If you want to leave, do it now. There’s no going back, Mr. Axe.”

                “This can’t be right.”

                “We are SHIELD, we investigate extraterrestrial beings and other worldly things…Including this.” She flips through her own folder then pulls out a picture of Loki holding his scepter. “This man, right here,” She points to him, “Is Loki Laufeyson, obviously, he’s not of this world. He is from a planet called Asgard, from Norse mythology.” Everyone is quiet either in shock or just respect. “He is the man that we believe kidnapped Diana Coulson.”

                “This is crazy… H-how did you hide it from us?”

                “Memory wiping tools, very few people retained their memories. SHIELD agents all remember what happened, but when they leave the agency, most of their memories of SHIELD are erased.”

                “That’s completely…” Dr. Huang trails off, staring at one of these pictures.

                “Loki has a brother named Thor, the man with the long blonde hair, who is on our side. Those other people are the Avengers, they’re agents of SHIELD and eventually Agent Romanov might join us in our search. It just depends on whether or not she’s working on a case.” She pauses to let it sink into their poor brains. Tom takes a sip of his coffee, gently shaking his head in disbelief at the pictures. “Loki is extremely dangerous, especially with his magic and scepter. He is manipulative and based on previous interviews, he may be a sociopath.” Maria continues to describe Loki’s relationship with Thor and then goes on to describe the Tesseract. Mike and Fiona seem to be the only ones who are taking the news well, the others keep uttering words of disbelief.

                When she’s done, thirty minutes after sitting down, they all stare at the pictures in disbelief. Maria glances over carefully at Phil, who’s also just staring at the photographs. Mike continues flipping through the file, glancing over Clara’s interview and the crime scene notes, then finds pictures of Clara in the hospital.

                “Who’s this?”

                “My niece, Clara Hill. She was with Dia when Loki attacked. She tried to take him down but hit her head and was in the hospital for a week or so. Her statements are attached and I’m not going to let anyone interview her-“

                “Why not?”

                “I want to keep her out of this… I don’t want my nieces finding out about SHIELD.”

                “And why’s that?”

                “Because, it’s dangerous. There are many people out there that would love to get their hands on this information, keeping them out of this and hiding the fact that SHIELD exists is the only way to protect them.”

                “So you’re just lying to them? That’s not going to go over well when they eventually find out about this place.” Mike tilts his head and watches Maria’s face crunch into a stern frown.

                “They will not find out.”

                “Drop it, Mike.” Fiona puts a hand on his arm and gives him a warning look. An awkward silence fills the room as Maria stares down at her folder, trying to compose herself, trying not to let a single emotion show on her stern face.

                “Welp,” Sam sighs and flips through a few more pages of the file, “I’m in.”

                “Me too.”

                “You can count Mike and I in… Right?”

                “Yeah.”

                “We’re in, too.” Dr. Huang nods in agreement, still reading over one of the pages in the file.

                “You look like you’re thinking hard, Doc. What do you think about Loki?”

                “He might be doing this as a rebellion of some sort. Showing that he’s the better sibling. He’s lived in his brother’s shadow all these years and then gets defeated, he might lash out.” He sighs and continues flipping through the pages, then gently shakes his head. “These Asgardians probably have slightly different psychology than us, I can’t guarantee that any of what I say is accurate.”

                “But do you think he’ll be violent towards her?”

                “It’s possible-“

                “What about sexually abusive?” He stops reading for a moment and glances up at Olivia through his eyebrows, then reluctantly nods.

                “It’s entirely possible….especially if he realizes that we’ve covered all this up. He might abuse her to show his power. Nothing is certain.”

                “We get that, but we need to know what to expect. Do you think he’ll keep her for a long time?”

                “If he deems her entertaining to him, then yes… I know this isn’t what you want to hear, Agent Coulson, but it’s most likely that he’ll keep her for a few months-“

                “And after that?”

                “Kill her? He’s not going to just let her go without having what, in his mind, is a little fun.” Phil, who’s been quiet for most of the time, lets out a small sigh and puts his head in his left hand, letting a pen rest between the fingers of his right one.

                “She’ll probably come back alive-“

                “But how? That’s the question.” Maria murmurs, twirling a pen in hand while flipping to the picture of the Tesseract that she had tucked back between the pages. “The Tesseract is the only way to bring them back, unless Dr. Selvig has found another way. Phil, write that down on the to-do list.”

                “You have a to-do list running?”

                “It’s quite extensive, Mr. Weston.” She cocks her head to the side as she says his name, not liking his sarcastic and bored tone. “Dr. Selvig is a very talented physicist that SHIELD has been working with to research how the Tesseract works. We’ll read him in on the case and he’ll be able to help us. We also need to contact Thor Odinson, Loki’s brother, and Jane Foster, another physicist working on the Tesseract project.”

                “You’re getting a lot of people involved.”

                “I’d do anything to help a friend.”

                “So would I, but this- this could end up on the front pages if someone leaks this.”

                “It’s high profile, but we have the resources to keep it on the down-low.”

                “It’ll be impressive if you can keep this a secret.” Olivia smiles, her eyebrow twitching slightly.

                “If any of you in the room leak this to the press, I will find out who it is and I will not hesitate to arrest you…or kill you.”

                “I’m starting to like you already, Agent Hill.” Sam laughs and nods his head towards her. Despite his craving for a beer, he decided that he doesn’t need one _that_ badly. He’d rather be here chatting up Maria than going to the mini-bar at his hotel.

                “Thank you.” She gives him a weak smile then looks around at everyone, reading their faces easily. Most of them are confused and eager to get out of here. “Any questions?”

                “Yes, I have one,” Dr. Huang raises a hand only so it’s at shoulder height, then uses a finger to point to the file, “What have you been telling people-“

                “About what?”

                “About your jobs? Do you honestly expect that lying to people will protect them?”

                “Yes. We intend to keep SHIELD a secret until we deem it necessary to out it to the public.”

                “What have you been telling your relatives?”

                “We work for the FBI.” Phil says simply and then uses his chin to motion towards his chest, wear he got stabbed by Loki a few months back, “I was stabbed by Loki and I simply called it ‘an act of a psychotic terrorist’-“

                “And that’s just what he is.” Maria huffs, then shuts the file closed, eager to get home to check up on Clara and Riley. Once Clara was brought home from the hospital, she had started having nightmares and not being able to sleep, only worrying about Dia and whether or not Loki would come back to get her. Her humor had immediately disappeared when she came back home and realized just how alone she was.

                “I think he’s a sociopath, more rational than a psychopath. Psychopaths are irrational and act on impulses, sociopaths are much more rational and plan things carefully. He was most likely planning this for a while, watching from afar-“

                “Do you think he could’ve been stalking her?”

                “It’s very possible.”

                “Alright, Agent Coulson, why don’t you write down the places where she visits most? Then I’ll get the CCTV tapes from those places, bring them back here tomorrow, and we’ll look them over.”

                “Great suggestion, write it down.”

                “Here, I’ll give you her school name and a few cafes she likes to visit.” Phil excitedly jots down the names, a little glimmer of hope bubbles up inside him at the thought of a lead. A good, solid one at that.

                “But he’s a trickster, a magician. He’ll probably be in disguises.”

                “He doesn’t understand our technology, he probably hasn’t taken the cameras and security into account. Asgardians may have magic and such, but they don’t have the technology that we have. That’s one of the main differences between our two races...and worlds.” Phil hands Olivia a sticky note, his slightly messy handwriting covering most of the small square of yellow paper.

                “Thanks,” She stands up, shoving her arms into her black pea-coat as she starts reaching for her bag on the floor, “Hey Huang, wanna come with me in the squad car?”

                “Sure.” He smiles and it’s obvious to the group that he likes riding shotgun in the police car with the sirens wailing. It’s a rare opportunity for a psychologist to go out with the officers, most of them wouldn’t take the risk of encountering a dangerous psychopath, other crave the adventure. As they walk out of the room, a small quiet chorus of ‘goodbye’s echo in the large room and Olivia gives a small wave to them. As the heavy door closes behind them, a phone rings. They all exchange glances until Mike finally reaches into his pocket and reads the message on his phone.

                “Fuckin hell, Nate.” He curses, then presses the red ‘end’ button before tucking his phone back into his side pocket were a few lone bullets lie.

                “What did he want?”

                “Don’t know, don’t care. I told him I’d be out of town.”

                “I mean, if you needs to go back, that’s fine. Just as long as you get into contact with some of your people from Europe or wherever. We need to find this son of a bitch.”

                “We’ll find him,” Mike stands up, grabbing his leather jacket that rests on the arm of his chair, “Don’t worry about it, leave it all to us.”

 

                In the squad car pulling away from the curb outside of the small SHIELD office building, Dr. Huang sighs and closes the Coulson file that rests in his lap. He always suspected that the FBI’s been hiding something, but never suspected that the whole United States government is hiding a whole other agency… One that investigate extraterrestrial beings, no less. The main worry running through Olivia and Dr. Huang’s minds is the fact that if their co-worker, Detective Munch, finds out, he’ll go berserk. Detective Munch may be a police officer and work for the state, but that doesn’t mean he trusts the government. He always has different conspiracy theories that he proposes to his coworkers. If he ever hears of this, he’ll never stop talking about it and he’d probably leak it to the press. Suddenly, Olivia’s phone ringing breaks their worries about Munch.

                “This is Benson.” She quickly answers as they stop at a red light.

                “Hey ‘Liv, what are you up to?” Her normal partner at SVU, Detective Elliott Stabler, is on the other end, suspicious of what his friend is doing without him.

                “Uhm, working on a case.”

                “One that I’m not involved in? That’s a new one.”

                “Hey, I can’t talk now-“

                “Are you keeping me out of this one?”

                “Yes. Now-“

                “I swear, if you’re digging into some personal case stuff, I’m not gonna dig you out of your grave.”

                “It’s…it’s government work, I can’t talk about it.”

                “That’s why Huang’s with you? Isn’t it?”

                “Yeah, how did you know?”

                “You’re the only two gone, we have a big case down here. Some pedophile is kidnapping kids, we need you down here.”

                “I’m sorry El, I’m working on a really important government case. I need to go-“

                “And you won’t talk about it later. Gotcha, okay. See you soon?”

                “Sure, hopefully soon.”

                “And return Huang, will ya? We need him down here, ASAP.”      

                “Okay, sure. See ya later.” She smiles as she hangs up, then turns to look at Huang. “I guess I have to return you to SVU for a little bit. I’ll call you if anything comes up.”

                “Alright, hey, drop me off by the coffee shop. I’ll walk to the station from there.”

                “Oh, are you sure?”

                “Yeah, need the exercise.”

                Within a few minutes, Olivia drops him off at the Starbucks nearest the precinct and then slowly drives off towards one of the addresses listed on the sticky note. First stop, Dia’s school, one of the schools that she had visited earlier that month to give a lecture about SVU, cops, and sexual abuse rates among teenagers. She has never liked visiting schools, no matter the age of the students, it always makes her feel queasy inside. There is no reason for her irrational and strong dislike of the ordeal, but she just likes to stay clear of the whole thing and leave it all to Detective Stabler.

                After a slow twenty minutes of winding through traffic and resisting the urge to put on the lights and sirens to speed things up, she approaches the courthouse then once she parks right near Casey Novak’s car, she gets out. Adjusting her pea-coat around her slightly busty chest when the wind is blowing snow in her face is no easy feat, but she manages to do it and locks the squad car as she rushes up the steps. She enters the courthouse, shows her badge to the guard, and is let through easily. Knowing the layout of the courthouse makes everything easier, especially when you need to find certain people with little time to spare. It takes a few minutes to get to Casey’s office, and once she’s there, she knocks on the door without any hesitation.

                “Hey, it’s Olivia.”

                “Come on in.” Olivia opens the door to find Casey adjusting her hair in the mirror on the right wall of the room.

                “I need a warrant for some CCTV tapes at a school.”

                “What case is it for?” She opens her mouth, getting ready to say what case, but then she realizes that she can’t say what exactly she needs it for.

                “A private one.”

                “If you’re investigating your brot-“

                “No, no, I need one for an FBI case… an FBI’s daughter has gone missing and I’ve been called in to help. I need a warrant, please.” Casey glances at her, then cocks her head at the mention of the FBI.

                “Switching sides now, eh?”

                “Just this once, don’t worry, Casey.”

                “Alright, give me a few hours-“

                “This can’t wait.”

                “Why not?”

                “She went missing last week and we really need this tapes as soon as possible.”

                “Okay, I’ll do my best. Now tell me, why are you getting involved?”

                “A friend called me in.” That friend being a very, very distant colleague named Maria Hill. Nonetheless, she knew that she would have to help, there’s no one else at SVU that Maria could trust other that Olivia, who she had worked with once or twice.

                “Huang, perhaps?”

                “Well, he’s in on it too, but he didn’t call me.”

                “Then who? I’d like to know what I’m helping you get into.” She smirks as she pulls out a few documents, signing them quickly and writing in a few details. “And who’s the missing girl?” With a reluctant sigh, Olivia responds quietly.

                “Agent Maria Hill and the missing girl is Diana Coulson.” Casey’s back stiffens, and she frowns at her, absolutely astounded at the mentioning of the Coulson family.

                “Daughter of Claire Coulson? The one that died in that courthouse gang shooting?”

                “Yeah, I think that’s the one. She never mentioned a mom in the picture” She clears her throat and finishes signing before standing straight up, her head still bowed over the papers.

                “She was my best friend. We had lunch together the day she died.” Her fingers nimbly fold the papers, slowly taking her time as she quietly lets the news sink into Olivia’s poor, overworked brain. She herself is trying to comprehend Claire’s daughter going missing. _That poor man, must be awful._ The memory of seeing him bow his head at the funeral, a small tear trickling down his cheek as he stands under the umbrella in the rain. That next week on the same day of the week that her friend had died, she went to the cemetery where she laid a small bouquet of flowers on her freshly dug grave. Just as she left, Phil approached and just looked sadly at the headstone. She couldn’t stand the thought of him having to go to another funeral and going through the same ordeal as before. Until now, Casey hadn’t thought about Claire’s death for a while. In New York City, being a district attorney meant the possibility of being murdered by a felon that you had convicted. In Claire’s case, she had been shot twice by a member of a notorious gang in revenge for locking up his sister, another member of the gang. The medical examiner said that she died instantly and never felt a thing, but when Casey went to ID the body, she had the feeling that Claire felt something before she died. Pain? Relief? No one would ever know.

                “Let’s go get a judge to sign this.”


	6. I Know My Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An enraged Loki is sent over the edge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all of my readers: Thank you so much, I love you all and you guys keep me going. Please keep commenting and let me know what you think. This chapter is a NSFW at the end (not too graphic though, since I'm inexperienced in that department) and depending on the feedback, I might just write a sequel to this story. I also might write a _Star Trek_ fanfic and a _Hannibal_ spin off. Stay tuned! Love you guys. xx Effie (echo--tango)

 

                My eyes twitch open to find sunlight filtering through the large windows. The lush, evergreen colored curtains have been pulled aside. The sunlight bounces against the gold walls to make intricate designs on the granite floor and in any other circumstance, I’d smile at the beauty. I turn over and find that Loki is gone, that’s when I let myself smile a little. He’s out of the room and left me alone. Good fucking riddance to you. Most of my  night was spent huddling up in the blankets as I tried to escape his gaze which was mainly focused on my backside. I cringed every time he touched me, but I didn’t have the strength to push him away. I let it all happen last night. I let him hurt me again. It’s no use to shove him off, it turns him on and he’s superhuman, an Asgardian, my strength is probably nothing to him. For the first few times, I did try to push him off, but after a week of struggling underneath him, I finally gave in and decided that it wasn’t worth it. Honestly, what the fuck would I do if I fought him off? There’s nowhere to go but out the bloody window and that’s a long drop. I’m not sure I would survive. I could use sheets, but I don’t have enough and it’s just stupid to try.

                Yet again, like every morning before, my back hurts like hell. As I sit there, looking at my reflection in the mirror on the vanity across the room, I stretch my neck only to find bruises and hickies. A few nail marks mar the pale skin on my back. When I look for more, I find numerous bruises on my ass cheeks and a few bruises on my thighs. I feel like vomiting, but today, I don’t think anything will come up. Like I said before, the past week has been filled with struggling, vomiting, and it feels like I’m living in hell. I think at this point, I’ve finally accepted that I’m living in my very own special hell and I’ll just deal with the Asgardian equivalent of Satan. I sit there for a moment with my knees against my chest, my lip pressed against my knee caps.

                Suddenly, the doors open and I freeze, petrified that it might be Loki coming back for seconds (more like thirds, though). It’s just Kenna, and that’s when I realize that I’m naked and the sheet has dropped to reveal the bruises on my chest. My boobs are still mostly visible because of my slumped over spine, so I stretch my legs out and wrap the sheets around me to create a makeshift gown.

                “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to barge in-“

                “It’s fine, fine.” I blush and bend my head. “I’m just gonna, uh, go take a bath.”

                “Alright. Would you like breakfast?”

                “Sure, uhm, what will you be serving today?”

                “Steak, eggs, and potatoes.”

                “Great, potatoes.” _Something familiar._ “Better than those weird orange beans I tried a few nights ago. They were awful.”

                “Humans have peculiar tastes.” She chuckles. “I don’t enjoy them, but many Asgardians love them. One of my friends absolutely despises them. He wouldn’t even try them and just ate potatoes instead of the rest of the food he was served.”

                “Smart friend.”

                “Then again, he’s an alien of some sort. He has never told me what he really is. I suspect he’s from that big red planet near Midgard… What is it?”

                “Mars, you’re thinking of Mars.”

                “Right, well, I guess I should bring you breakfast. I do not want you to turn to skin and bones.” She exits the room, her dark blue gown trailing across the floor. I’m surprised that she doesn’t trip on it. It’s elegant despite the fact that it looks like it’s the standard maid’s uniform. When the door closes behind her, I get out of bed, still in my makeshift dress, and continue to the closet. The green silk sheets trail behind me and with my free hand, I open the closet doors. I choose a simple black gown with gold shoulder plates that have intricate designs on them. I carefully take it out then kick the door close. Damn that’s one heavy door. I still can’t tell if everything is actually made out of real, pure gold. It couldn’t be…or could it? It’s a totally different world here. Weird food, an extremely expensive room, and magic. If Loki is kicked out of the picture, this would be an absolute paradise…but he’s here almost all the time.

                My bare feet pad against the chilly floors and I set my dress down on the bench next to the bathtub. I lean over to start the water then while I wait for the tub to fill up, I sit on the edge of it and watch myself in the mirror. The tub fills up as I sit there looking at my utterly depressing face. Without taking my eyes off the mirror, I lean over and turn off the water. I slip out of my sheets and then turn my head back to the tub. I carefully dip my foot into the water, it’s a bit hot, but I still slowly sink into the water. I dunk my head in the warm water then resurface for air. The stillness of the water makes me feel relaxed but I decide to disrupt it by blowing out through my nose to make bubbles in the water. I giggle and smile as I continue making bubbles.

                Eventually I stop playing around and wash up, which also washes the smile off my face. No matter how much I scrub, the bruises and marks won’t disappear. Ah yes, there goes my life crumbling down around me. I let my fingers dance on the surface of the bath water and watch as it ripples beneath them. The sound of heavy footsteps sends a chill down my spine and I hug my knees against my chest. I press my lips to my knees and close my eyes as the footsteps approach.

                “How are you this morning, pet?”

                “Fine.” I answer with my chin glued to my knees, my eyes boring holes into the bathwater.

                “Have you eaten yet?”

                “No.” I shake my head and open my eyes, not daring to look at him.

                “Well then get out and we shall have breakfast together before I have to socialize with my idiotic brother.”

                “Can you hand me my towel?” My voice drips with boredom and he tilts his head to the side.

                “I think you look better without it.”

                “And I think I’d look better fully clothed in my bed in New York. We can’t have everything we want, now can we?” I glare up at him and his eye twitches a little bit. Loki looks like he’s about to strangle me, but he composes himself and looks away for a moment before looking back down at me.

                “Just stand up so I can admire you, then you shall receive your towel.” I cross my arms over my breasts and cross my legs so everything private stays that way. He smirks and shakes his head.

                “I should have made it more clear. Uncover yourself and then you’ll get your towel.” I hesitate for a moment, looking down at my feet, but I do as he says. My arms fall limply to my sides and I stand there awkwardly with tears slithering down my cheeks. My blondish brown hair is sticking to my face and I just stand there so vulnerable with no way of getting out of this awful situation.

                “You shouldn’t be ashamed. You’re beautiful, my little Dia.” He uses a pale finger to tilt my chin upwards so I’m forced to look him in the eye. With on graceful motion, he wipes a tear away and then leans in to kiss my forehead. It takes a lot of effort not to shiver as his cool lips press against my head. He pulls away slightly and his eyes roam down to my chest. “Do you like how I’ve marked you? For everyone to see?”

                “No.” I whisper, my lips trembling.

                “Why not?”

                “I’m not a pet. I’m not yours’.”

                “These marks say otherwise. I thought I proved to you that I am your king-“

                “You are not my king, you’re not my anything other than my rap-“ His hand constricts around my throat and I gasp for air. I start choking and he lets out a guttural growl as he starts to bare his teeth, almost like an angry fox. He lifts me up with one hand and then drops me to the floor, knocking the wind out of me. Luckily, my head barely misses the colliding with the floor. As I struggle for a breath, he straddles my waist and grabs my throat again.

                “Look at you, you are just a pathetic mortal. It has taken a lot of strength not to break you, not to kill you and splatter you entrails on the walls.” He chuckles and squeezes my throat, making my hands instinctively grab at his hand, trying to pull it away in order to save myself. “Do I really need to teach you a lesson? Mark your little ass so everyone will know that you are _mine_? Mh?” He releases my neck and I take in a deep breath as my vision blurs. “Answer me.” A let out a choked sob as I turn over to dry heave.

                “I take that as a yes.” I let out a choked ‘no’ which sounds more like _noorrrhhh_. Loki just laughs and I feel his eyes wandering in places that they shouldn’t. “You are mine, never forget that little one.” I press my forehead against the floor, taking deep breaths in order to calm myself down. Suddenly, with a free hand, he stretches his arm out so that his palm faces the mirror. My vision is blurry, but I can clearly see what’s happening. The reflection starts growing distorted and loud cracking noises fill the air. The mirror shatters into a million pieces which all rain down onto the sinks and countertop, then some pieces land on the floor. 

                “Do not test me again, or that will be you next time.” When the doors slam shut I let out a cry. It hits me again that everything I love is gone. I have nothing other than my sanity which is slowly slipping away from me. My body wracks with sobs and shivers produce Goosebumps on my pale skin. I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting here, half-sitting up and half-lying down on the cold floor, but footsteps approaching quickly bring me back to reality.

                “My lady, are you hurt?” Kenna rushes over to me, her face flushed with concern.

                “Fine, fine-“ I try to cover myself but she quickly stands up and finds a towel, then gently covers me up. Her strong yet gentle hands help me up and once I’m standing, I shiver and hunch over. I let her help me into the other room, my head against her shoulder and my body shuffling beside her.

                “Here, just lay down and I’ll bring you your gown and breakfast.” She helps me onto the bed and gives me a gentle smile accompanied with a little nod, then she rushes away again. My head rolls to the side on the cool down pillow and I stare out the window. Funny how your mood can change so quickly with one little action. I sit there, just staring out the window, unable to do anything but watch the dust dance in the sunlight. Kenna rushes around me, doing god knows what. She appears next to me in a blur of blue fabric and sets my gown on the bed.

                “Let me help you.” I reluctantly let her slip my towel off of me and I wiggle into the dress, which I honestly don’t want to wear now. It hugs my thin body tightly and shows off my very few curves. “I think this dress suits you.” She strokes my shoulder slightly then turns away to grab a gold tray with a plate of food and some sort of gold goblet. I’m getting sick and tired of all this medieval stuff. I’m living in a fairly modern Versailles but I’m wearing gowns, have a maid, and my rapist is dressed in armor. Maybe I’m just in a mental institution and these are my hallucinations. I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s the case, this is too unreal to be real.

                “Steak, eggs, potatoes.” She smiles proudly and I sit up straighter with my legs on the bed in front of me so she can place the tray on my lap. It’s a bit heavy but a small smile crosses my face as I look at the contents on the plate.

                “What’s in the cup?”

                “Water.”

                “Really? Why no orange juice?” I laugh a little, then sniffle and wipe my nose with the back of my hand.

                “The kitchen must have run out.”

                “I’d expect you Asgardians to replace it with, like, ale or wine or some fermented thing.”

                “I do not believe we serve alcohol before lunch time.” She says, a bit confused at my statement.

                “Well in TV shows-“

                “What are those?” Kenna sits down at the foot of the bed, watching me as I eat a potato. Once I’m done chewing, I continue talking.

                “Oh, well, they’re like…moving pictures.”

                “You will have to show me this, one day.”

                “I promise, if- when I get out- I’ll show you a great movie.” I’m thinking maybe _The Adjustment Bureau_ or _GI Joe: Rise of Cobra_. “Anyway, a lot of TV shows kind of imply that medieval people, I guess like you Asgardians, drink ale and wine all the time.” She cocks her head to the side.

                “Why?” My mouth is full eggs, so I just shrug and continue chewing. “That is strange. We only drink that at dinner. Sometimes at lunch, but not usually.” There’s a long pause as I finish off the eggs and start eating the steak. And eventually I pose another question.

“                So, what’s your life like here in Asgard?”

                “It’s…” She looks like she’s searching for the right word, “Hard.”

                “Hard? How so?” I stop chewing and put my fork down.

                “Long work hours and sometimes…people get angry if we touch their belongings.” I nod and wonder if that’s really what she wanted to say. I don’t press her about it though, she already looks a bit guilty.

                “Do you get any time off?”

                “Sometimes.” She nods and smiles. “I like to go out to the Queen’s gardens and read by the fountain. Sometimes the other maids will join me. If I’m alone, I like to go visit the women in the pond.”

                “Women in the pond?”

                “They’re what you call mermaids. With gills and fins.”

                “Mermaids? Seriously?” I scoff and my eyebrow twitches a little.

                “Yes, they live in the pond and they’re very kind.”

                “What do they look like?”

                “They are all beautiful with shimmering tails and one of them has blue skin. That one is Siri. Then there’s Mira with long blonde hair, Sansa has beautiful dark skin- that’s rare in Asgard-, and Em always has shells in her hair.” I feel like Harry Potter when he was immersed into the wizarding world for the first time. I nod as if I know what she’s talking about then continue eating, I’m almost finished when she looks up from fiddling with her hands.

                “What is it like on Midgard?”

                “Mh?”

“                Earth.”

                “It’s nice. I live…lived in a big city. Lots of people, lots of cars, lots of noise.”

                “Cars?”

                “They’re uhm,” How do I explain a car? She doesn’t know what any of this basic technology is. Hell, they have candles in my room and weird magic gas lamps. “It’s like a cart or a wagon but it has a special motor in it so you just uhm steer it. It’s hard to explain…One day I’ll show you one. My friend, Dean, he has this big black Impala, a nice type of car. It’s like fifty years old but it’s beautiful.”

                “Are they magic?”

                “Oh, uhm, no no. It’s just really advanced technology. Do you guys know what electricity is?”

                “No, I do not believe so.”

                “Ah, well it’s energy but it goes through these special wires and goes through a plug to another wire connected to some device. Like a lamp, it would be like one of those ones on the wall,” I point to one on the wall that flickers as I speak, “If you turn a switch, the energy will flow through the wire and the lamp will light up the room. Turn off the switch, the energy stops flowing. It’s really cool.”

                “I want to learn more, this is-“ The doors slam open and we both straighten up, immediately shutting up. She’s just as scared as I am.

                “I see you have not finished eating.”

                “Kenna and I were talking.”

                “If you have cleaned up the mess in the other room, then you are dismissed.” He nods to Kenna who then gives me a gentle smile. She scurries out of the room and leaves us alone. To fill the awkward silence, I put the last potato in my mouth and chew slowly, tracing over the details on the plate. The spices, the designs on the plate itself, the other foods on the plate, my eyes trace over everything on the tray so I don’t have to look up at him. I can feel his eyes wandering down my body, almost as if he’s mentally undressing me. It reminds me of that one time in tenth grade English class where our substitute taught us interesting but utterly useless words. Clara’s favorite was ‘gymnophoria’…It means ‘the sensation that someone is mentally undressing you’. I never thought I’d be able to use that word, until now. The feeling of gymnophoria makes me shiver and want to hide under the covers, away from that person that could possibly be thinking of me naked. A very suitable word for this situation.

                “Did you enjoy your breakfast?” I’m sucking lamely on the fork, getting the extra spices off and trying to keep my eyes down, away from his sea-green ones.

                “Yeah, it was good.” I nod and put down the fork. Suddenly he takes the tray away and comes back to sit on the edge of the bed next to me. I reluctantly scoot over, fearing what he might do to me if I refuse. “I know what you’re going to say,” I look up at him through my eyelashes, “Undress, bend over.”

                “Am I really that predictable? I guess I will have to change it up. Would you like that?” I bend my head again, avoiding his eyes. It’s no use though, he grips my chin in a firm grasp and forces me to look at him. His eyes seem to be boring holes in my head. “I said, _would you like that?_ ”

                “No.” I know what his response will be, but I’m not just going to cave in so easily. He knows that all too well. His palm connects with my right cheek, sending it bursting into flames. Hands wrap around my upper arms and twist me so that I’m splayed awkwardly across the bed. His knuckles are white as he aggressively rips the black fabric, tearing it apart like a feral cat. I feebly fight back, knowing it won’t do much good. I figure that if I don’t put up some resistance, he’ll find a way to force me to. Meaning more pain, more humiliation, I don’t think I can take much more of this. A dark chuckle echoes in my ear as he nibbles my ear lobe. His tongue traces my jaw line, he nips roughly every so often, making me jerk around.

                His uses his knees to spread my legs apart, his left hand is leaving a bruise on my upper arm while his right hand his kneading my breast. Another finger-shaped bruise. It’s just been a week and I’ve already found more than five finger shaped bruises on my front side. To my surprise, he straightens up and starts taking off his armor. No magic, just his fingers pulling apart the intricate plates and leather bindings. He seems to want me to fight back, so I do. Might as well try to get away, maybe he’ll stop if I put up a big protest. Doubt it, but it’s worth a try. Why the fuck not?

                I let out a puny cry as I flip myself over so I can crawl off the bed. Another bruise is inevitable as I fall to the floor, a loud groan echoes through the room as I crawl towards the corner near the nightstand on the right side of the bed.

                “Look at, you pathetic little thing. I do admit, I enjoy it when you fight back. Makes it more exciting. Does it not, little one?”

                “Please, please don’t-“ He’s completely naked now and already hard. My vision blurs and I curl up into a little ball. Now I’m sobbing outwardly, my hair sticking to my cheeks in an awkward mess.

                “You enjoy the fight, you crave it. All humans crave subjugation, you crave it more so than the rest. No one else understands it-“

                “Stop, stop-“

                “But your eyes say continue.” He grabs my hair and pulls me up, forcing me onto the bed as I screech in pain, clawing at thin air. Loki’s hands pin my arms down and once again, his knees spread my legs apart. “So beautiful,” He murmurs against my skin, sending ripples of terror down my spine, ”So vulnerable.” His nose and lips roam down, then suddenly, he bites my clit. A strangled scream echoes against the golden walls and my hips buck in pain and protest.

                “Already wet, little one.”

                “No, no, no, no, no-“ He straightens up and thrusts into me, to my relief, my vision starts to fade into black. This is the second time I’ve started to black out-

                “Oh you will stay awake for me this time, I will be sure of that.” A hard slap to my rear makes me yelp, this time I start struggling against his grasp. My fingers claw at the hand pinning both of mine down. He groans loudly as I continue to struggle, it just makes him thrust harder, like an animal. His noises gradually die down as I slip into unconsciousness. The only thing I hear is the bed creaking and my mind screaming for him to stop. No use though, my lips can’t move, my arms are limp, and nothing makes me want to die more than this.


	7. On my Knees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki decides to not tolerate Dia's sassy mouth and she realizes that arguing with a Norse god about who tried to kill her father is not the best thing to be arguing about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just really love writing this series, ok. Please keep leaving messages because it makes me feel all warm and tingly inside. Thank you to my readers even if there are only, like, three of you. I love you guys. xx Effie (echo--tango)

 

                Time  slowly passes by and I crave something other than his cold, emotionless touch. I want Dad to just hold me against their warm chests so I can just cry into their shoulders. I’d give anything to have Mom with me. I’m miles away from home and I still can’t fathom it. When I wake up every day with Loki beside me, it takes me moment to realize that I’m not on Earth. I just can’t get up and run away. It’s different. There’s magic keeping me in here and God knows what’s out there. And how would I get off of this damn planet? I have so much free time and I think about escaping far too much. There’s nowhere to go. I guess you could say that this is better than being stuck in some remote wilderness with nothing but yourself.

                As I quietly slip into the flowing, navy blue satin nightgown, I abruptly stop putting it on as I realize something that has taken me quite some time to realize. They all fit me perfectly. He measured me in my sleep. The thought makes me want to vomit and I have the urge to throw the gown to the floor. I don’t though, I proceed to slowly slip the straps on and then stand at the mirror, watching myself just stand there motionless. My own cold, unrecognizable eyes stare back at me in the mirror.

                I jump as the door opens and Loki struts in wearing his normal armor.  In his hand is a piece of crumpled paper which he tosses it onto the bed. As I pick it up, it makes a crinkling noise and I fight back the tears. It’s my ‘missing’ poster. The picture on the flyer is one from a party that I went to with Clara a while back. In the picture, my hair is in a stylish braid and a beautiful chestnut brown but now my dyed hair has started to fade and my roots are a dirty blonde. People criticized me for dyeing my hair, but I did it to forget my mom’s death. Now, I can’t forget my past. I can’t forget the present…and I just can’t think about the future. I doubt I even have one.

                “They have officially called off all the search parties. No one is looking for you anymore.” His tone is too casual for the subject matter. I’m quiet as I stare at the flyer that’s now in my shaking hands. They wouldn’t just call off the search, I’m the only thing that Dad has left. He wouldn’t just let me go so easily. "Do you miss your mother and father?" I smooth down my hair as I put it down on the vanity and let him put a hand on my arm. He gently rests his pointy chin on my shoulder like a child and stares down at the flyer.

                "Yeah."

                "Why? They never loved you, your father has been lying to you all these years-"

                "Well at least I don’t have mommy and daddy issues-" I shove him away, but it’s obvious that my sassiness is not welcome at this point in time and his hand darts up to my neck. He knocks me to the ground with a loud 'thud' and leans over me, his breath tickling my cheeks as he bares his teeth and lets out a guttural growl that I’ve heard all too much recently.

                "You dare speak of my family in that way ever again and _you_ will know nothing but pain and agony.”

                "You wouldn’t do that, good owners don’t harm their pets.”

                “Oh we'll see about that." With his hand still around my throat, his squeezes it slightly as he presses my lips to mine. His lips are soft and his tongue a little too eager. Knowing that there's no use in fighting, I open my mouth and let him do what he wants. Fighting is just too much work. His free fingers nimbly start to pull my dress down and he growls when I bend my knees so it gets stuck around my waist.

                "Are you in the mood to die today, dear Diana?" His flings a chair against the wall and it falls down with a loud crash, it makes me flinch, but I keep myself rigid as I try not to tremble under his cold and menacing touch.

                "You could say I'm a little suicidal." I spit back, but he responds with a dark chuckle.

                "Mmmmhhh, I just love it when you give me a witty response." He carefully positions his waist on top of mine and gently sits down so that I'm pinned down even more. Loki retracts his hand from my neck and I take a gulp of air, but his lips quickly cover mine again and start to suffocate me. My hands are pressed firmly against his chest, trying to force him away, but no matter what I do, it doesn’t deter him. I feel his hand pin my shoulder down while his right one works its way into my underwear. My muscles tense up but he manages to work two fingers into me but he easily spreads me open and adds another. I let out a strangled cry, I can't tell if my cry is out of shame, pain, or lust. I'm hoping it's not the last one, but I honestly can't tell, my mind is numb and clouded. When I start to shut my eyes, he slaps my cheek and plunges into me, making my eyes snap open and I let out a scream.

                "Look at me, take your punishment like a good little girl." He snickers when he sees the tears start to stream down my reddened cheeks and he relentlessly continues to slam in and out of me. When he finds release, my legs twitch and he pulls out allowing me to slam my legs together. I try to roll on my side to try and crawl away, but as usual, his strength keeps me down.

                "Open." He's referring to my mouth. I purse my lips as I silently sob, but that doesn't deter him at all. Loki's sticky hand squeezes my cheeks and forces my mouth open. Then he starts to work his cock in and out of my mouth, tears still streaming down his face. Before I know it, warm liquid fills my mouth and he forces me to swallow before he pulls out with an awful, wet 'pop'.

                "That was lovely, you did well." He gets off of me, and then stands up, making it easier to pick my half-naked body up off of the tiled floor. We enter the main room and he undresses me, sets me on the bed, then undresses himself. To my surprise, he just tucks me in and slips into bed next to me. The room grows dark when he makes all the lights go out. My pale frame is illuminated in the moonlight streaming through the window, making it easy to see that I'm quivering with fear. He's asked me only twice if I'm afraid, I've answer 'no' each time. It seems to satisfy him.

                "Are you afraid of me?" He asks, his hand gently stroking my cheek.

                "N-no." My eyes close and a tear or two slip out, my lips trembling. I turn over and yank the covers up around my neck, trying to cover myself completely, but I still feel exposed.

                "It is not hard to tell that you’re lying." A finger slips down the length of my spine and a shiver ripples through me. He presses his lips against the tip of my spine and the sound of a chuckle erupting from his mouth makes me shiver even harder.

                "Good night, pet." He's called me so many names and yet he always reverts back to this one at the end of the day. I let out a little sob, then quickly press my lips closed to keep any other noises at bay. The bed shakes as I continue to silently sob, my tears staining the emerald green sheets. I wrap the sheets tighter around my frame and bite into them, trying to keep from crying out again. After another round of crying, I finally stop and sniffle. I use the back of my hand to wipe away the tears and then rub my nose, wiping up any gooey snot that might have escaped. There’s a hell of a lot, more than I expect. I listen to Loki’s slow breathing then slip out of bed, my limbs shaking in fear and in overall weakness. It took a lot out of me, crying for any amount of time has always worn me out. My feet make light shuffling noises as I reach over for some toilet paper and try to quietly blow my nose. When I’m finished, I listen for any movement from the other room. Nothing. I walk to the sink and turn on the faucet to the coldest setting, then cup my hands underneath it to splash water on my face. It doesn’t do much, so I grab a spare washcloth lying on the counter and run it under the cool water for a few seconds. I turn the faucet off and press the cloth to my face so that it covers both cheeks at the same time.

                As I dab at my red, blotchy face, I realize something odd that Loki said tonight. Your father has been lying to you all these years. Lying? Lying about what? No reasonable answer crosses my mind. He’s never lied to me about anything other than Mom’s death, but I understand why he wouldn’t want to tell a five year old that her mother has just died after being shot in front of a courthouse by some gang members. He never lies, he’s honest. He has always tried to be as much like Captain America as possible. Honesty, compassion, intuitive, and dedication. Just a few words to describe him. What would he lie about? Something to protect me most likely. I debate about whether or not to wake Loki up so that I can question him, but I decide not to. Instead I quietly hop back into bed and stare at the gold ceiling. Around this time, I’d count mistakes, embarrassing moments, funny moments. I’d relive them all, smiling to myself as I imagine myself back home with Clara and Dad. Sometimes I’ll think about Sam, Dean, and Cas.   They could save me, I know they could. Maybe Dean will be my knight in shining armor…Or rather, a black freshly waxed Impala. Tonight I’m not smiling at that thought of Dean in knight’s armor.

                My eyes lazily trace patterns on the ceiling, thinking about Dad. Lies. Lies. The word just keeps repeating in my head. Maybe Dad is really Captain America, but Cap is long gone. He speaks about him like they’re best friends even though Cap is dead and has been my dad’s hero since birth. My hero? That would be my dad. And as I lay here, thinking about all the lies he could’ve told me over the years, I don’t know how I should feel about anything anymore. Most of the time, I feel dead inside and all I can do is think about the pain and how my family is moving on without me. All I can do is relive those great moments with Dad, Clara, and Dean, as well as those few precious moments with my mom.

                All of a sudden, my stomach churns, as if it’s flipping inside out. Nausea sets in and I clutch my stomach, futilely  trying to make it stop. I take a deep breath or two, trying to keep my dinner down. Too late though. I bound towards the bathroom, almost tripping before skidding to a stop in front of the toilet. The sound of my retching makes me want to retch even more. My head  swirls with fog and it feels as though I’m falling.  My butt hits the floor with a thunk before Loki rushes in, now partially clothed in loose brown boxer shorts. I hear nothing other than him whispering my name. My brain slows down to a snail’s pace, I feel like I’m dying. I’m not in pain or anything dangerous, it’s just the disconnection with the world. I’m  floating, unmoving in the air. He picks me up in a panicked frenzy, with a cold cloth in his hand, he presses it to my head. I lie in his arms on the bathroom floor and I feel safe. Not entirely safe, but safe enough so that I’m not fearing for my life. I lazily roll my head to the side to see his face. His green eyes intently watch me as I close mine and open my mouth awkwardly.

                “Sshhh, my love.” I let out a choked protest to him pressing his lips against my forehead, the cloth gently dabbing at my neck. I want to push him away, but I want to feel safe…and in some strange sense of the word, I do. I feel safe in his arms. The cradle around me protectively. Despite all of this abuse and anger, he truly loves me in some twisted way. He enjoys seeing my suffer, but his love…it seems genuine, especially right now.

                “Why are you crying?” He pats my cheeks with the cloth and I start hiccupping, gasping for breath as much as I can. He kisses my forehead again and rubs my arms, trying to comfort me. It helps. My breathing slows and evens out so that I can breathe better, and he gently smiles at me as I start regaining control of my limbs and mind.

                “Better?” I nod and before I know it, I press myself against his chest, willing him to get up and tuck me into bed. “Would you like to go back to bed-“

                “Yes.” I close my eyes and nod, my mouth slightly open. He lifts me up effortlessly and before I know it, he’s tucking me into bed. The green sheets are wrapped around me and he tucks himself into bed next to me. His arm wraps around my waist and pulls me close, his chin resting gently on my shoulder. He gently presses his lips to my shoulder and presses a few kisses along my shoulder blades. I don’t shiver, I just quietly sit there, savoring the stillness of the night and how kind he’s being.

                “You will be alright in the morning, get some rest.” And just for those few quiet minutes, I like him.

 

* * *

 

               The next morning, I feel like death. My hair clings to my face and there’s a puddle of drool on my pillow. I can’t put together my thoughts and my surroundings, even though they’re familiar, seem so blurry and unknown. I wonder if this is what a hangover feels like. Good fucking lord, this sucks, majorly. I manage to flop onto my back and find Loki curled up in the green sheets. His breathing is quiet and even, he looks a lot better than I do right now. His slick black hair is tucked behind his ears and is barely frizzy. My blurry, fog-drenched thoughts make it hard to laugh about what kind of conditioner and hair products he might use. Instead of laughing, I let out a “Nuhhrrggggg” noise and put a hand over one eye. I rub it as my other one watches Loki’s little blue eyes open. He looks so innocent when he sleeps.

                “You are already up, I see. How are you?”

                “I feeeeel, like ssshiiiiitttt.” I grumble and let my hand drop down by my side.

                “The feeling should pass soon. If not,” He lets out a little sigh as he sits up, “Then I will consult a healer.”

                “Great.” Through the fog and nausea, I roll over onto my stomach and bury my face underneath my pillow. The pillow is drenched in sweat and possibly drool too, which makes me cringe slightly. My boobs awkwardly squish against the mattress and they’re pretty sore. Must be that time of the month. Whoopie. It’ll be even more like hell with my uterus trying to kill itself while he’s brutally raping me. I mean, at least I won’t get pregnant. That’s the one upside. I roll over onto my left side, still trying to get comfortable. Bruises mar my pale skin in every place he can reach. Thighs, ass cheeks, neck, hips, you name it. I watch the light hit the gold rooftops of the city and I start to wonder how much time has really passed.

                “What’s the date?”

                “Midgardian?”

                “Yeah.”

                “I believe it is March seventeenth, two-thousand-thirteen.” I’ve been here for over two months. He gets out of bed and the movement makes my nausea grow even worse. As I start thinking about Dad, Clara, and Dean, another disturbing thought enters my head.

                “H-have you,” I gulp and open my eyes, “Been stalking them? My friends?”

                “Only your father, the others are of no interest to me. I was debating about whether or not to kill him, but I figured it would be a waste of time. The first time I stabbed him, it did nothing. He’s walking about like it never happened. Quite peculiar. He is human, is he not?”

                “Of course my dad’s human.” I sit up and my stomach sloshes around. “He was stabbed by a psycho terrorist last year while in New Mexico on a business trip.” I smirk at his boasting, remembering how Maria had told me about how he was stabbed in some warehouse out in New Mexico.

                “No…I stabbed him. He died in front of me, I remember it well. My-my brother will never forgive me for stabbing him even though he is quite well now.”

                “You didn’t stab him. I think I’d know. I’d remember the asshole that stabbed my father. They never caught him, you’re not the psycho terrorist. The terrorist looked like Osama Bin Laden on meth.” I laugh at him as a few lone tears stream down my face.  But seriously, Loki stabbing my father? I’m pretty sure Loki is not on the FBI’s most wanted terrorist list. I mean, there’s a good chance that he is now. He chuckles at me and points a finger at me.

                “I think I would remember all the people I have killed. I remember his last words to me quite clearly. _You lack conviction_. Then he tried to kill me. It did not work to his advantage.”

                “I know you didn’t try to kill him. You can’t convince me otherwise, Loki.” His eye twitches slightly when I use his name, but he doesn’t say anything. I sniffle slightly, shaking my head. “I do know that you tried to kill Clara. Who knows if she’s alive?”

                “That reminds me, you will not address me so casually-“

                “Really? I can call you _Loki_ if I want. I am your girlfriend, aren’t I?” I laugh sarcastically through the nausea and I cross my arms over my chest.

                “You are my pet. In Asgard, pets only refer to their owner as their master.”

                “What, now do I get a leash and collar?”

                “If you’d like one-“

                “Oh hell no, don’t you fucking dare-“

                “I’ll have one specially made.” He chuckles and a small, seductive smirk plays on his pale lips. “I also have a present for you tonight. I have the feeling that you will, mh, love it.” Bile rises in my throat but I lick my lips and swallow to prevent anything unwanted from coming up.

                “Well it’s not like I’m actually suffering here or anything. Every girl likes being raped. Right?!” I throw my hands up in the air as sarcasm drips from my voice. What a shit head. As he starts to walk out of the room, he opens the door and stops.

                “She is alive, you know. She has moved on.”

                “She’s not the type of person to forget her best friend since preschool.” My yell is broken off slightly when my voice cracks and the door silently closes behind him. Clara won’t forget me… Will she?


	8. Flickers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cellist, Miranda Poole, is introduced and Phil has some big news for her. Loki also makes a surprise visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for sticking with this story for this long. I guess I've accidentally made Phil Coulson into a very depressed wreck, but oh well. Also, the cellist is introduced and looks like Sasha Alexander. She's awesome. Hopefully, if I can get my ideas straightened out, you can see her kick ass in later chapters. Anyway, no warnings for this chapter, just a very angry cellist and frightening situations. Please leave comments and if you like the story, then leave kudos. I love it when you guys say 'hello'. Love you guys! xx Effie  
> PS. If you want to see extras and fashion for the story, click [here.](http://unwillingfic.tumblr.com/)

 

                Wednesdays in New York City are rarely as hectic as Saturdays, and today Phil is extremely thankful for that. There aren't as many people out that can notice him and his cloud of depression that’s constantly hanging over his head. It's been two months since Dia's disappearance and right after she went missing, the news stations were interested. A FBI agent's daughter gone missing is exciting news. He didn't want to be in the spotlight, but he figured that it might save her, and so he became famous. "Phil and Diana Coulson" became household names and everyone at SHIELD was on edge. They managed to keep SHIELD a secret for over twenty years and Dia's disappearance made them anxious. Instead of staying in the rather small SHIELD brownstone (which they have been renting since the helicarrier had to go in for repairs), they decided to put everyone on the newly repaired helicarrier and take off. Now Phil is sitting on the bench near the shipyard and is quietly taking note of everyone passing by. A mother and father with a stroller. A young woman with bleach blonde hair down to her waist. A short, stout man with a stained shirt. No one that looks like Dia, no one that looks like Loki.

                He checks his watch, anxious to board the ship. It's only eight at night, they'd be boarding around nine. He's already checked in his luggage, put his vintage car in the hands of a trusted SHIELD agent, and made sure that his colleagues got the memo... Now he just has to wait, ever so patiently under the streetlamp. The bench is facing a couple of nice shops which have grown in popularity over the years. Not all of them are open on weeknights though and many of their windows are dim. Only three out of the six shops are open. A coffee shop, a chocolate and pastry shop, and a high-end women's boutique. Not much to do and he certainly isn't in the mood to stuff himself with fancy chocolate or cake. He closes his eyes, hoping to block out the recurring thoughts of his daughter dying. His nightmares consist of her being brutally murdered rather than the normal images of his deceased wife, Claire, being murdered or the sight of Loki repeatedly stabbing him in the chest. The sound of approaching footsteps make his eyes pop open.

                “I know what you’re thinking about.” Olivia Benson shows up in the corner of his eye, dressed in a thick, black pea coat. Her hair is straightened in a bob at chin-length, which Coulson thinks is the best haircut for her. He’s not exactly elated to see her, but it at least keeps him out of the murky waters of his self-loathing and anxiety. They pair had become quick friends in the past few months and she had let him confide in her numerous times.

                “Oh really?”

                “You wanna get coffee and talk?”

                “As long as your shrink won’t be sitting in.”

                “Don’t worry, Huang is still packing up his psychology books. He’s taking a  trip to Quantico.” She laughs and motions towards a well-lit area that’s closer towards the bustling city. “Starbucks, on me.”

                “I guess it wouldn’t hurt.” He gives her a genuine smile and his heart feels a little less heavy. This is the first time in two months that he’s felt a little happy. His depression had been crippling but now that the helicarrier had been repaired and the team could get back together, he was starting to feel a little more confident.

                “What do you normally get?” Benson asks as they start walking towards the coffee shop.

                “Decaf coffee, black.”

                “Really? I pegged you for a machiatto type.”

                “That’s…that’s what Dia gets.” He murmurs the last bit and the pair both awkwardly stick their hands into their pockets.

                “Sorry to bring that up, I didn’t-“

                “Hey, it’s fine. It’s my fault, I-I tend to bring her up in every conversation…it’s just become this bad habit-“

                “Totally understand, maybe we should talk about something less depressing- I mean, I know that it’s hard not to think about her, but dwelling on this isn’t good for you.”

                “I know…” They continue walking in silence and in the dim moonlight, their feet leave footprints in the light dusting of sticky snow.

                “What’s your favorite season? I prefer Autumn, crunchy leaves and pumpkin spice lattes.”

                “Same here, Winter is too cold and Summer forces me to sweat in my suit.”

                “It’s hilarious seeing my partner, Stabler, roasting in his suit. He’ll just stand out there talking to people on the courthouse steps and you can just see steam rising from him.” The pair chuckle as they approach the counter. When Phil looks up, he’s surprised to see a young college girl with straightened black hair and piercing green eyes standing behind the redhead with a thousand freckles.

                “What can I get  you today?” The redhead asks, surprisingly perky for someone serving coffee on a dreary night.

                “Peppermint mocha for me, decaf.”

                “And a black coffee, decaf.”

                “Will that be all?”

                “Uh yeah, thanks.” His eyes dart back to the girl who is quietly making their drinks, her movements slow and thoughtful. Her name tag reads “Kimmy” and she’s about Dia’s age, she might even go to school with her. She might have eaten lunch with Clara. He immediately shakes the thought of his head and quits staring at her in fear that he might look like a pedophile that Benson might try to prosecute.

                “Go pick a seat, I’ll pay.”

                “Thanks.” He says, his voice barely breaking as he heads for a table that’s located near the window. He takes off his grey trench coat and red scarf, which he places on the back of his chair. Meanwhile, Benson is leaning against the counter, waiting for their drinks and watching Coulson sit there with his head in his hands. Everything reminds him of his daughter. A teenager passing by, a Starbucks drink, a park bench under a tree that she’d love to sit under…everything. It was pathetic.

                “Drink this, you look like you’re about to cry.” She places the coffee in front of him, and he gingerly takes the lid off of it to cool it down.

                “Yeah, seems like I’m always crying, these days.”

                “I can’t imagine what it’s been like for you, but you need to realize that crying and moping isn’t going to solve anything. You need to continue hunting for her and doing what you do best: saving the world.”

                “I don’t save the world, I’m just the guy that pushes papers and yells at people. Steve Rogers is the one saving the world.” He chuckles lightly as he mentions his hero of many years, Captain America. The Avengers are off doing something or other, but Clint Barton was taking a vacation of sorts, at least, until Director Fury had called him in to assist with the search. “And the Avengers too.” He quickly adds.

                “While the Avengers may be the ones out there in the field, from what the guy with the eye patch has said, you were the one that inspired them to band together. Without you, this Loki guy might be ruling the world right now.”

                “That inspiring did cost me two weeks in the hospital, months of physical therapy with a guy named Dick, and a hell of a lot of money.” The pair chuckle and sip their coffee before continuing making small talk. They talk about football and how Coulson is rooting for the Baltimore Ravens while Benson obviously loves the New York Giants, and then about their coworkers and work in general. In the middle of talking, her phone rings and she answers it on the second ring.

                “Hey El-….oh, alright…I’ll be there soon, give me the address…okay, bye.”

                “What was that about?”

                “Dead rape victim, I uh have to go to the crime scene-“

                “I thought you were boarding the ship?”

                “No, Huang and I will be working the case on land and working on other cases too. If you guys get a lead, then we’ll handle it.”

                “Okay, that makes sense,” Benson stands up with her coffee and Phil does the same but with slightly drooping shoulders, “I guess I’ll see you whenever we come back.”

                “Sure…and you have my number if you need anything… I’ll see you around, ‘kay?” Benson gives him a small wave and then leaves the shop. He checks his watch and sees that there’s only thirty minutes until boarding time. Just enough time to go pick up Miranda…at least, if she wants to come.

                With his coffee in hand, he takes a taxi to her apartment building only a few minutes away from the marina. She loves the ocean but isn’t fond of boating…or lying. Phil gulps and hands some cash to the driver, then steps out into the cold air. It’s starting to snow again and with slow, anxious steps, he walk up the steps of her apartment building. The elderly doorman opens the door and they give each other small smiles. The warm air doesn’t make Phil feel any better, now he’s starting to sweat under his overly hot coat. He presses the button to the elevator and starts taking off his scarf then starts unbuttoning his coat once he got in. He presses the button to the fifth floor and closes his eyes, imagining how the conversation would go.

                 Just based on the two years that he’s known her, he knows that Miranda isn’t one for screaming matches, she’ll just give him the silent treatment and evil glares. She also doesn’t enjoy fighting of any type and avoids violence at all costs but doesn’t mind watching the occasional cop drama on Fox. The elevator door dings open and he steps out into the narrow hallway. His eyes desperately search for apartment 54 and when he finds it, he hesitantly knocks on the door. Her rushing footsteps set him at ease and he can sense her on her tiptoes as she looks through the peephole.

                “Hey, Phil! You should’ve called and I could’ve put something nicer on.” She laughs when the door opens to reveal her standing in her favorite set of pajamas that are a dark blue and look like a vintage set from the 1940’s. Her messy brown hair is put up in a loose bun and her neatly trimmed nails, as usual, are painted a beautiful red. This is one of the reasons why Phil loves her, goofy and beautiful in every way.

                “Oh, it’s fine. I just needed to come talk to you about something-“

                “Is it Dia? Have they found her?”

                “No, no I just…I need to tell you something.”

                “Come in then, I don’t like when you scare me.” She opens the door wider for him to come in. As he steps in, he can’t help but smile at the bunny slippers on her feet. Miranda shuts the door and her feet gently pad against the dark wooden floors. The open layout is inviting and he immediately ushers her over to the sofa near the kitchen island and the pair sit down.

                “Just tell me-“

                “I’m not an FBI agent….I work for a top secret government agency called SHIELD-“

                “What?” He takes his ID out from his back pocket and hands it to her to show that he’s not lying about the lies. She hesitantly takes it from him and frowns at it as her eyes scan the unbelievable words on the ID.

                “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry but I wasn’t-“

                “Wait…You’ve been lying to me for the past, what, two years-“

                “I-I wasn’t allowed to tell you…I had to protect you from the truth-“

                “The truth? That you’re a damn secret agent for a top secret government agency? You could’ve just told me from the beginning, it wouldn’t have mattered t-to me-“ Her voice breaks, tears welling up in her eyes and she looks down at her slippers, “I can’t believe you…you of all people. I thought you wanted to be like Captain America. Honest, trustworthy-“ She throws his ID at his chest and he cringes as it smacks the spot where he was stabbed.

                “I didn’t know how else to protect you…I couldn’t let you end up kidnapped by psychotic supernatural theorists or anarchists-“

                “What exactly would the want from me? What kind of shit do you do?”

                “It’s complicated-“

                “Where have I heard that before?” She scoffs and sniffs a little as she crosses her arms over her chest.

                “Tony Stark’s Iron Man-“

                “That hoax?”  
                “It’s not a hoax, never was and never has been. It’s real…he’s…he’s a super hero, just like all the other people I work with. Hawkeye, Black Widow, the Hulk, Captain America, Iron Man…and Thor, Loki’s brother… I had to protect you from the truth,” His voice breaks as well and he takes a deep, shaky breath, “Please, please just come with me. I want you to be with me.”

                “I can’t believe you…God,” She lets out a small sob and when he tries to place a comforting hand on her shoulder, she nudges him away, “It’s over, I ca-“

                “No, please, don’t. At least come with me for the time being, Loki, Dia’s kidnapper, might come back and I don’t want you here alone-“ He takes out a grainy picture of Loki from Germany where he’s in his usual attire including the golden horned helmet.

                “What do you mean this guy might come back? There’s no reason for him to attack me-“ She shakes her head in disbelief, but he quickly starts to explain his reasoning.

                “He-he was the one that stabbed me-“

                “Another lie? Really, Phil. God, fuck you.“

                “I didn’t want you to know, I couldn’t have you in danger-“

                “Say that again and  I swear to God, I’ll throw you out the window. All of sudden you barge into my apartment and confess to me that superheroes exist and you expect me to believe you? And trust you?! Well I wo-“

                “The meteor crash wasn’t a meteor crash, it was Loki destroying New York and then we managed to stop him but I was in the hospital-“ He blubbers as Miranda watches him, rage pulsing through her veins. Her posture softens slightly when he starts sobbing and blubbering about the Avengers and Loki. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry for everything. P-please just come with me, I don’t care if y-you break up with me afterwards, I j-just want you to be safe. He will come back, I know he will. You won’t b-be safe h-here.” After a moment of thinking, she sighs and rubs her brow.

                “Where are we going?”

                “We-we’ll be on an aircraft carrier er I mean a helicopter…aircraft carrier...hybrid-“

                “How long?”

                “A few weeks.“

                “I don’t have anything planned-“

                “So you-“

                “Shut up, yes, I’ll go. Don’t expect me to sleep with you though and if you continue lying then I will jump off the carrier.”

                “Thank you, thank you-“ She stands up without giving him a second glance and stomps into her room, then fishes out her suitcases. Her frequent travels make her an expert packer and within minutes, she has her two fluorescent pink, rolling suitcases packed. Her makeup and toiletries are in a smaller black bag within one of the suitcases and she has plenty of clothes as well as shoes stashed in the cases. From pajamas and slippers to a tight black dress and pink heels, she has everything stuffed in there, even her laptop.

                “You’re carrying my bags. I’ll carry my cello-“

                “C-cello? Why br-”

                “I don’t leave home without Fitzgerald.” She lugs her suitcases out and sets them down near Phil, who’s still pathetically wiping his tears away. Then she carries out a dark blue cello case with _Fitzgerald_ written on it in cursive. A fluorescent pink tag dangles from the handle and has her name, phone number, and address written on it as well as the symphony that she plays for. She sets the cello against the wall near her coat closet and then fishes out a purple wool jacket and a black scarf as well as a black beret that she got from Paris a few years ago. With a small sigh, she starts putting on her black, wool gloves.

                “You know, you’re the first guy that I’ve genuinely trusted since Brian.” Brian the stalker was actually how Miranda and Phil met. Brian was six feet, two inches tall with an impressive six pack. The pair had dated for a few months, but she quickly broke up with him when she realized how dangerous he really was. He was obsessed with her and one quiet night, he followed her home and shoved her up against a brick wall only to be beaten up by the one and only “FBI agent” Phil Coulson. “And now, you’ve betrayed me. Guess I won’t find a good man before I turn fifty. My mother will be disappointed.”

                “I’m sorry-“

                “Don’t apologize, I’m not going to forgive you. I’m doing this because I know you’re serious about those criminals and you wouldn’t ask me to go into hiding without a legitimate reason. Now come on, let’s go- And I’m not going to change my clothes or my mind, so don’t ask.” With an angry point of her finger, she then opens the front door of her apartment and the two depart once the door is firmly locked.

                As one might expect, the pair are quiet as they stand out in the cold and flag down a taxi.  A chilly breeze brushes through the thin fabric of her thin pajama pants and she shivers, but doesn’t say anything. They don’t say anything when they get into a taxi, they don’t say anything when they arrive at the shipyard, and they’re silent as they check in with Maria Hill who’s guarding the SHIELD docking area.

                “Room keys, a map, and Phil, your luggage should be in your room. If not, then head down the bridge and find me, I’ll set them straight.”

                “Thanks, Maria.” They pair give each other small smiles and nods while Miranda barely manages to give her a small smile at all. _I’m not jealous of his co-worker who gets to spend more time with him and knows all his secrets…am I? No, I’m not. I’m dumping him. No more lies, you’re a strong, independent cellist that doesn’t need some lying secret agent._ Phil opens the glass door for her and the couple start making their way down the loading bridge.

 

* * *

 

                “I just talked with Maria and she can’t get you another room until tomorrow when everyone has boarded and they’re less busy.” He closes the door quietly and she rolls her eyes as she stuffs her Bath & Body Works moisturizer back into her makeup bag. She rubs the lotion into her skin and takes the bag to the bathroom connected to their small room. After tucking her hair into a loose side pony tail, she tucks herself into bed. Within minutes, Phil slips into bed beside her and turns off the lights just as Miranda flips over on her side so that her back is to him.

                While her mind races with fantasies of Chris Pine sweeping off her feet and taking her to London to watch an award-winning rendition of _Romeo and Juliet_ , Phil rolls over onto his side as he tries to block out the paranoid thoughts that too frequently invade his mind. _Maybe I should go to counseling. Maria will make me if I don’t do so on my own…This paranoia is getting out of hand._ His eyes glance at the clock and he lets out a little huff when he sees that it’s only eleven. He thought it was much later. His stomach rumbles and after a minute or so of debating, he finally gets up and exits the room in search of a midnight snack… Leaving Miranda alone in a room full of shadows.

                In the darkness of her dreams, she finds herself in a small bed in a darkened room. It’s not one on the helicarrier nor is it her apartment, it’s unfamiliar to her, but she lies under the covers, as still as a gravestone. A strange light sparks her curiosity and she takes a peek, but what she sees makes her eyes widen. She quickly shuts them when footsteps start approaching her. With extreme difficulty, she slows her breathing to make it look like she’s sleeping, but it doesn’t faze him. He stops at the foot of the bed and clucks his tongue.

                “You cannot fool the god of trickery and lies, besides, I am the one that concocted this dream. I control it.” She bolts up right, flipping the covers of herself as if she’s about to spring out of the bed.

                “Get the hell away from me.” Her chest quivers as her pupils dilate, trying to take in every small glimmer of light so that she can see his face.

                “Oh, this is just a friendly visit, Miranda. You see, we are going to have a little chat about Agent Coulson and his,” He cocks his head to the side, “investigations into this little matter.”

                “H-How do you know my n-name?”

                “I have been watching Dia’s friends and relatives for a short while now, I know your name and basic history and how you’re the legendary cellist that Agent Coulson often speaks of.”

                “W-what do you want?”

                “Like I said, this is a friendly visit. No harm will come to you if you just listen to what I have to say.” He gives her what he would call an ‘amiable smile’ but it was more of a smirk that make Goosebumps bristle along her spine. “See, he keeps investigating and eventually finds her and takes her away from me, which he never will, I will be forced to kill every single resident in New York City until I find her. Once I do, you will die. Agent Coulson will die. Everyone who helped him will die.”

                “N-n-no-“

                “Oh but yes! Take her away and I will take your life, it is as simple as that. She is mine and when people take what is mine, they die. Do you understand?” She nods slightly as tears start trickling out of her eyes. It makes him chuckle slightly and his smirk widens.

                “Believe me when I say, the threat is very real. Though, I do not want to have to spill even more blood. I prefer not to get my hands dirty.”

                “W-why, why are you doing this?”

                “Why not?” He cackles, his voice echoing through the empty room. “I desire a pet and I have found the perfect one in the form of Dia Coulson. She may be a bit reluctant, but in time she will learn to love me-“

                “You kidnapped her, sh-“

                “Kidnapped? I prefer the term ‘happened upon in a dark field and taken in to be cared for’.” Tears roll down her cheeks as she frowns at him, but it just makes him laugh. “This will be my first and final warning before I come back to kill. Keep prying and one of you will end up dead…or maybe, your dead body could be just the warning he needs.” In a blur, he’s at the side of her bed with his hand starting to constrict around her throat.

 

* * *

 

                The sound of Miranda’s piercing screams practically wake up the whole crew of the ship. Phil is only a few twists and turns away from their room and he immediately bolts towards the room. He swings the door open with such force that it bangs against the wall and he flips on the bedside lamp before sitting on the bed next to her. Her hands clutch the white sheets against her chest and she sobs helplessly as Phil cradles her against his chest. Suddenly, Maria through the doorway dressed in her black _Star Trek_ shirt and sweat pants. Clint shows up behind her, shirtless in a pair of SHIELD issued gym shorts.

                “What the hell is going on?” Fury’s booming voice echoes through the hallway and he shoves his way past Maria and Clint in order to see the pair on the bed.

                “L-L-L-Loki, he th-threatened to k-kill me-“ She held her hand to her neck and continued crying into Phil’s shoulder. As Maria stepped forward, her eyes widened and adrenaline pulsed through her veins. Even though there wasn’t a clear view of her neck and her skin is fairly tan, there were visible purple bruises that marred her skin…as if someone had tried to strangle her.


	9. In the Room Where You Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara Hill finds out about the lies her aunt has told over the years and Loki tells Dia about visiting the cellist and Clara.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the wait, but hopefully it'll be worth it. This chapter is really angsty, a bit short, and stars Clara Hill. Dean and Sam Winchester will eventually make an appearance because they're friends of Phil and have worked a few cases with him. They'll probably enter the picture after the next chapter, so stay tuned. Love you guys! xx Effie

**Clara Hill**

                Under normal circumstances and situations, I would accept apologies…but it’s too late for that. Aunt Maria has been lying to me about her work for my whole life. Lying to protect me is one thing, but then telling me that some psychotic god destroyed New York and that the government lied about it is different. Dia’s dad, Phil, also lied to Dia and myself about his work. He’s not an FBI agent either. Maria and Phil both work for some top-secret, “dangerous”, government agency and they had to lie in order to protect us. Yeah, I’ll believe that for a minute.

                I stomp into my room, anger pulsing through my veins as I slam the door behind me. My eyes dart to the bathroom door to make sure it’s closed so I don’t have to interact with Melanie, Tony Stark’s daughter who’s the product of a one night stand. She’s sweet and energetic, but I don’t want to talk to her. I don’t want to talk to anyone. The only person I want to talk to is Dia, and she’s not here. My negative thoughts get the best of me and start eating at my brain. She’s probably dead by now or maybe she’s been sold on the black market, like those girls that get kidnapped in Mexico all the time. My stomach flips as I plop down onto the bed. As tears start brimming in my eyes, my head starts to throb. Hitting your head on a toilet seat tends to mess with your head, literally. I get headaches and even migraines that require me to go to the hospital, the media always has  field day when that happens. They believe that I’m hiding something about Dia’s disappearance. I feel like I’m responsible for her kidnapping and the media blames me too, but Phil says it’s not my fault. I’ve developed PTSD and I constantly flash back to the moment where I tackle him, trying to stall him, but I slip. _My hands separate and I fall, with that, he shoves me aside and runs after her. The man leaves me on the floor in the bathroom, bleeding out onto the linoleum and going unconscious._ I shake the thoughts out of my head.

                I reach for my iPod and while doing so, I turn off the bedside lamp, which is the only light source in the room. My room, unfortunately, doesn’t have any windows. Then I slip my jeans off throw them onto the floor. With remarkable coordination, I slip my bra off under my long-sleeve shirt and throw that to the floor as well. The iPod’s light makes my head hurt, but I still sift through the songs and each one seems to hurt me more than the last. _Hermit the Frog_ by Marina and the Diamonds was- is Dia’s favorite song. It’s not mine any more. _Home_ by Ellie Goulding pops up and my heart drops again. I wish I was home. I wish Dia was home. There’s no shooting stars out and none of my wishes are going to be granted. I eventually settle on listening to _Carry on my Wayward Son_ , the lullaby version. It reminds me of the Winchester brothers, speaking of which, they’ll arrive on this carrier thing any day now. They’ll help us find Dia and I know that Dean will do anything for someone he considers family. As the music starts playing, I close my eyes and rest my hands at my sides.

                _“Carry on my wayward sooonnnnn._

_There’ll be peace when you are doonnee._

_Lay your weary head to reessttt._

_Don’t you cry no more.”_ I sing along in a hoarse whisper and I can’t help but start crying. The dull ache in my head progressively gets worse as I continue crying…and I eventually curl up into a ball in which I quickly fall asleep.

 

                It seems to be only an hour later that I wake up to a strange scream, but it quickly subsides. I don’t hear much after that and I bury my thoughts in order to get more sleep.

 

                When I awake again, the room is still dark and the music still playing on repeat. There’s a small ache in the back of my neck so I stretch it out, cracking my joints in the process. My head spins as I sit up and a strange light in the corner of my eyes makes me frown. A small gold light stretches up into a human sized form, though it’s taller than the average person. In the dark, I can barely make out the figure, but his attire makes my voice catch in my throat. It’s surely a dream, or rather a nightmare.

                “I am not here to harm you.” I sit up, watching Dia’s kidnapper approach me. His heavy footsteps make me even more uneasy and he seems to sense that.

                “Wh-who are you?” I whisper, my eyebrows creased in fear and confusion.

                “I am Loki, of Asgard-“

                “You kidnapped her, you kidnapped Dia-“

                “I prefer to use the term ‘whisked away’-“

                “Why-why did you do that? Why did you have to take my friend away?”

                “I love her, it is as simple as that,” he sighs and stops in front of me as I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, “That being said, I need to reiterate that the agents need to stop their futile search. No one will find her as she is quite far away…”

                “P-please, is she alright?”

                “She is doing well and sleeps often.”

                “I can’t believe you. Y-y-you come visit me, you almost killed me, you bastard-“

                “I did not intend to harm you, I assure you that. I only came for Dia.”

                “What have you done to her? Why do you need her to be there with you? Wh-why can’t you just bring her home and leave her be? Is that too much to ask?”

                “I need her with me because I _love_ her and she will never be coming home to this wretched planet-“

                “You love her? If you love her then you’d let her go, you’d let her come home, th-that’s what she probably wants. Sh-she probably misses us.”

                “She does not miss you, she does not need you. The only person she needs is me and I shall stay by her side until-“

                “Until what?! Until you kill her-“

                “You, you need to be quiet and listen to my words. She. Is. Mine. She will not be coming home. Asgard is her home and I will be her husband-“

                “Have you raped her? Is that why SVU is involved-“

                “I would not call it rape, she seemed to enjoy it.” I grit my teeth so hard that they feel as if they’re about to split. I stand up and shove him but he barely moves. He just laughs at me and smirks, revealing his white teeth against his dark lips.

                “You are a monster.” In a blur, in hand wraps around my throat and I let out a choked scream. I try to rip his arm away but he only squeezes harder. My vision grows blurry and I continue to desperately claw at his arm until he lets go, but it’s too late, my vision grows blurry again and everything goes black.

 

**Dia Coulson**

                I can’t tell how long I’ve been staring out the window but it’s probably been at least twenty minutes. I watch the city go about their business as the sun disappears behind the cliff in the distance. A cold breeze tickles my skin and I hug my arms, trying to keep warm. This nightgown is different than the others, mainly because it’s not silk and it has ties rather than just being able to slip it on. I’m guessing this is the traditional sleepwear for the women of this planet. It’s not bad, but I’d rather wear the silk ones any day but I guess they’re all in the wash or something. This material is very light, but it’s not as soft as the silk.

                Another breeze tickles me but this time it’s accompanied by the door opening and footsteps approaching me. By the heavy steps, I can tell that it’s Loki. Kind of pathetic, how I know it’s him just by his footsteps. Kenna’s footsteps are like a child’s, his steps are menacing. He comes up behind me and slips his hands around my waist, but lets them dip down in between my legs. I hide any emotion that’s trying to cross my face and instead close my eyes, trying to block it out. With his teeth, he bites the tie that holds the back of my nightgown closed and unties it with one swift movement. His lips press against my back and one hand moves up my stomach, onto my breast, and to my collarbone to untie the other tie. The nightgown slips off silently and it hits me that I’m no longer fearing for my life when he pins me down on the bed. He no longer threatens me, or pulls my hair, just the occasional slap and rude word. Of course he’s rough with me, but not as much as before and for that, I’m grateful. His hand slips along my waist and down my back, between my legs, but he stops before he reaches my clit.

                “Maybe we should mix is up to night.” I bite my tongue and clench my ass cheeks together as he expertly maneuver’s me to the bed. He pushes me onto my stomach and I try to let myself drown everything out, but that’s easier said and done.

                “I always think about inviting Tyr, the maid’s husband, but then I remember that he’s quite selfish. He would most likely try to take you for himself. Now we can’t have that, can we?” An anxiety-inducing chuckle makes tears prick in my eyes. From the corner of my eye, I see his hand grab my wrists and pin them above my ass. His hand hovers over my wrists for a moment and then he takes it away to reveal chains around them. I try to pull them apart, but just as I thought, it’s no use. It’s magic, just like he used on the doors. Who knows how powerful he really is? His tongue traces my jawline and suddenly, he flips me onto my back and I stare into his eyes.

                “You know, I visited your friend today.” He murmurs, his face inching closer to mine.

                “Wh-what did you do to her?”

                “Why do you assume I hurt her?”

                “Because that’s what you did last time.” I shake my head as tears start streaming down my cheeks. Loki wipes a tear away and watches me for a moment, as if trying to finish making a decision.

                “I did not hurt her, only told her that you are safe.” He places his lips against my jaw and then murmurs, “Now, we shall dwindle on that sour topic. Let us continue.” A reluctant moan passes my lips and I shut my eyes tight as he continues about his business, as if depression-inducing conversation hadn’t just happened.

                “Wh-what did she s-say?”

                “She accepted my apology for hurting her and she wishes you a safe and happy life with me.”

                “D-did you visit anyone else?”

                “Miranda, yes. Hopefully it sent a message to your father to not keep attempting to find you.” I knew it, they’ll never give up searching for me with the knowledge that _he_ has me. He lets his lips trail down my chest and a glimmer of hope helps block out the rest of the night.


	10. Mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected twist forces Dia to confront her future with Loki and how she'll survive for the next few months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I'm such a lazy bum. Anyway, I've actually decided to add a HUGE plot twist towards the end of the fic which is totally going make you guys pee your pants. Hint: It includes death, but not in the way you think. That'll be a while though since there will be around twenty two chapters in all, this is only chapter nine! Keep on those comments and criticism is welcome. Love you guys! xx Effie

               The sun setting through the thick curtains forces me to wake up from my long nap and I squint in the harsh light. Nausea starts creeping through my stomach and up through my chest. No, I’m not going to throw up. I’m okay. I’m not sick. I take a deep breath through my nose and let it out through my mouth, but it does little to resolve the situation. I repeat that for about a minute before it becomes too much to bare. I practically fall off the bed as I scramble towards the bathroom, the acid slithering up my throat burns just as badly as alcohol. My nightgown starts sliding off of my shoulders because Loki didn’t bother to fasten the ribbons together, he just helped me slip my arms into it and let me do the rest. I was too tired last night to do much. When I reach the bathroom, I drop to my knees in front of the toilet and start retching. Tears blur my vision and I sputter as my throat burns wildly. I choke again and my mouth stays agape as I continue heaving. A hand gently touches my shoulder but I continue breathing heavily over the toilet bowl, slightly shocked at how violent my vomiting was.

                “Dia…Dia what is wrong?” I respond by dry heaving again and he backs away, obviously shocked. “I will go get the healer, st-stay here.” I feel Loki’s eyes hurriedly scanning over me, assessing my health, and then he rushes away. I cough again before leaning back on my heels and then plopping down on my butt. Another deep breath in and out, in and out. It helps a lot and I gently lie down on the floor then press my head against the cold floor. More deep breathing and curling up into a ball makes the nausea disappear, but even when it leaves me, I still lie there, completely unsure of what to do. The doors open and two sets of footsteps quickly approach, though I can’t tell who the other person is because my unwashed, slightly damp hair is obscuring my vision.

                “She’s in here- Dia, Dia?” I lift my head a little to see who the other person is. Loki lets out a sigh of relief when he sees that I’m not dead. “Dia, this is Katia, a healer in Asgard.”

                “Here, let’s get you onto the bed. It will be more comfortable than this.” With remarkable ease, she slips her arms under me and picks me up. I let myself go slack in her arms and she slips me under the covers, then places my hands by my sides above the covers.

                “Will she be al-alright?” His breathing is ragged and his panic-filled eyes anxiously dart back and forth between our faces.

                “Give me a moment to examine her.” She pulls my hair back and uses a pink, silk ribbon to tie it in a loose side ponytail, then watches me closely, before quietly asking: “Have you been under the weather frequently?” My head lolls to the side and she presses her hand against my forehead to check for a temperature. Her cool, dark skin feels good against my forehead.

                “No-no she hasn’t, this is the first time.” He bites the side of his index finger, chewing on a hang nail as he watches us.

                “I mean…I felt nauseous the other day but that’s it…” I shake my head weakly then ask, “Can I have some water?”

                “Of course.” Loki nods to me and rushes away to serve my needs.

                “Is it possible that you are with child?”

                “No, no, I’m not. I think I’d know-“ I sniffle and lazily wipe my nose, then let my hand plop down beside my hip. My body feels like a piece of coal, heavy and crumbling apart.

                “Is it possible, though?” I open my mouth and then nod hesitantly…. But I still…well I still had a bit of spotting, that counts as a period…doesn’t it? I don’t know. Katia presses her hand against my stomach and sits with a blank face, as if listening to my stomach.

                “Just a simple spell, it is just as accurate as Midgardian pregnancy tests. I have studied your healing methods in my free time, they are very…interesting.” She murmurs as a small circle of gold light engulfs my stomach, which rises with each nervous breath, and then slowly disappears as she pulls her hand away.

                “Well, what is wrong with her? Will she be alright?” He asks as he rushes to my side and hands me the goblet of water, which I start gulping down quickly to get the sour taste out of my mouth.

                “She is with child,” She nods solemnly and her back stiffens as she stands up, “it is neither full Asgardian nor Midgardian and I do not have experience with this. It may not survive birth, but I will do everything I can to help the pregnancy go smoothly.” My mouth opens, but no sound comes out and my water filled stomach tightens and twists. The pair converse as I sit there staring into space with my mouth slightly agape, my hand gripping the goblet tightly against my chest. I let tears slither down my cheeks and she exits the room, then comes back in, it must have been ten minutes or more. I’m still in the same place with the same expression. I slowly come back to reality and my fingertips barely touch my stomach. Something is growing inside me and it might not even be totally human. An alien, his child. I don’t even know what a Jotun is. For I all I know, it could look like a goat but only have two legs. I don’t want his child.

                “I d-d-don’t want it.” Katia’s mouth opens but Loki’s dark chuckle cuts her off.

                “This is the heir to the throne of Asgard we are talking about. You will have the child whether you like it or not.”

                “N-no, no-“

                “There is no point in arguing with me, Dia.”

                “I will be back shortly to deliver herbs and vitamins to help with the nausea. Though I do warn you, I cannot guarantee the child’s survival nor your own, my lady. This…this is very rare in Asgard a-“

                “Just do what you can and if my child dies, you shall too.” He glares at her and she gives a small nod, then glances at me before retreating out of the room. When the door closes, his stance relaxes and he lets out a small sigh, his angry demeanor leaves the room as he unclenches his fists. He quietly walks over to my bedside where he sits down next to me, he then gently pries the goblet out of my hand and places it on the nightstand. As if I were his most prized possession, he hesitantly reaches out to cup my left cheek in his hand.

                “Why do you not want the child?” It seems as though, for just a moment, tears are forming in his eyes. His eyebrows are arched in a pained expression and I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. I can’t just blurt out, “I don’t want the kid because you raped me and god only knows what it’ll be like”.

                “I-I…it was stupid, I’m sorry, I do want it.” I nod into his hand and he wipes away a stray tear with his thumb. His anger, dominance, and hatred has left his eyes as he watches me, still stroking my cheek with his thumb. With the most gentle air I have ever seen from him, he leans down over me and presses his lips to forehead….and I have the urge to kiss him back….and I do. I lean up towards his lips and for a moment, a glimmer of up rises up inside me. Maybe this small action will make his pain and fury go away, at least, just for a while. Maybe this will make him soft and loving, maybe this will make my pain go away. We break away and a gentle smile crosses his face as he stares into my eyes. Despite my twisted stomach, I smile right back at him and he gives me a kiss on the forehead again.

                “What shall we name it? Perhaps…Valia?”

                “Claire.” After my dead mother, but I don’t think he needs an explanation. We stay silent and soon Katia comes back with two, small glass jars filled with herbs.

                “Anti-nausea herbs to be place in the bath, their scent will help ward it off. These,” She holds up the jar in her left hand, “Vitamins and herbs that will help the child grow and keep the two of you healthy. Take one of these once a day and the anti-nausea herbs can be used as much as you wish.” She smiles then sets them on the nightstand then takes out a mint leaf wrapped around something white. Without even glancing at Loki for his approval, she leans over and hands me one of the leaves.

                “Do I chew it?”

                “If you wish, it may be easier that way with the nausea. The mint should mask any of the bitter herbs.” With that, she screws the lid back on then motions towards the other jar. “Would you like to use these now?” I nod slowly as I look at the leaf in my hand. I barely notice her walk into the bathroom as I hesitantly place the leaf on my tongue. The strong mint flavor combined with the tart taste of the herbs and some strange rose taste makes my nose scrunch up and I quickly swallow it all before my stomach decides to become like Enjolras in _Les Mis_. Loki chuckles slightly at my disgusted expression then gently starts tracing circles on the back of my left hand.

                “H-how long will I have to carry it?”

                “Twelve months for an Asgardian,” Her voice is slightly muffled by the distance and the sound of the bath going, “Though I am not sure about this. I may be a talented healer, but I am by no means, all-knowing.” Loki smirks in the corner of my eye just as another round of nausea kicks in. It seems as though he senses it and when I lean forward, he places my forehead against his shoulder.

                “How long do you suspect she has been with child?”

                “No more than three months.”

                “Fuck, I don’t think I can take much more of the nausea.” Or living here for twelve months while carrying my rapist’s mutant child. I think I’d offend him if I said that.

                “The bath is ready, I’ll leave you two alone while I consult my books,” She walks out of the bathroom, drying her hands on her brown gown which is a few shades darker than her skin, “Perhaps if I ask another heal-“

                “No, it is just you. No one can know. Do you understand me?” A menacing growl escapes from his throat and she nods quickly before rushing out of the room. She’s certainly smart, getting out of the way before he can do any major damage.

                “Alright, would you like me to carry you?” He asks with a small sigh, but I shake my head.

                “Just help me walk.” He nods and stands up, outstretching his hand for me to take and I gladly do. My head feels like a carousel as I start walking while leaning against him. My knuckles turn white as I grip his hand and as soon as we’re in the bathroom, I practically run over to the tub, strip down, and sink into the warm water. The air smells of rose and Christmas trees, though it unfortunately reminds me of the perfume my mom used to wear. It’s one of those memories that sticks with you forever and you don’t know why.

                “Is it helping?” I open one  eye and notice a concerned look spread across his face. I mentally check my nausea levels and then nod. “Good, good. Hopefully that nap will not affect your sleep, you and the child will need as much sleep as you can get.” He smiles and then stands up slowly.

                “Where are you goin?”

                “I must fetch you a gown, having you run around bare would only taunt me.” My heart leaps with joy as he exits the room. No more sex, no more humiliation, no more emotional trauma for the next year. The prospect is delightful. Any other woman would be angry without sex for that long, but it just makes me want to  run around the room wearing the sheets as a cape. I grin and take a deep breath, then dunk my head in the water before surfacing for air. I smooth down my hair and grin as the nausea disappears into oblivion and the dizziness starts to go away. Whatever she gave me is working like a charm, I’ll have to thank her when she comes back.

                “Here you are, I find this gown suits you best.” He holds out a sheer cream colored nightgown as well as a warm, dark celadon colored robe with long sleeves and gold clasps in the front. It doesn’t cover the nightgown that much but rather drapes down so that it is an overcoat. It’s one of the most comfortable outfits in the closet. Hopefully it’ll be able to convert to a maternity nightgown easily. God only knows how big my stomach might get.

                “You forgot my underwear and socks.” I say as I dry off with the white towel.

                “Oh dear, of course.” He probably did that on purpose, this means he’s still an ass. Loki comes back with plain, cream colored underwear and dark green socks. I reluctantly let him hold me as I put on them on so I don’t lose my balance. As soon as that’s done, I grab the nightgown, slip it on, and then put the robe on over it. My gown trails across the floor and I fasten the clasps on my robe as I exit the bathroom. It seems like Loki is cleaning up my mess and once I’ve tucked myself back into bed, he rushes into the room and then stands there watching me as I curl up into a ball.

                “Do you want dinner?”

                “I want to sleep.” I close my eyes and let out a content sigh, then place my hands on my elbows as I loosely hug myself. A few minutes later, he sits down next to me and I turn over to see what he’s doing. He’s changed into his lose, green tunic and loose brown pants and holds a leather bound book in his hand. I lean towards him to see what it is and he opens it so I can see.

                “Shakespeare?” I chuckle and it earns a small smirk from him.

                “Yes, I have a few of his works though my private library mainly consists of spell books.”

                “Do you have any about Asgardian culture?”

                “I will see what is in the library. Any other requests?” He scoots closer to me and I put my head on his shoulder, trying to warm up to him.

                “Jane Austen, please.”

                “Very well.” He turns to me and smiles, then kisses my forehead. I try to mask the pain of having him be this close to me, remarkably it works and it he presses his forehead to mine. The smile on his face is a goofy one, like someone painted it on. This is the first time I have seen him truly happy and nonbelligerent. He reaches for my hand and then places it on my stomach along with his.

                “Soon we shall have a child, an heir to the throne of Asgard, and you,” He kisses my forehead again and his lips move gently across my skin as he speaks, “You shall be my queen, the one and only queen of Asgard. Would you like that?”

                “Yes, of course.” It’s the biggest lie I’ve ever told.

                “Once the child is born, we shall get married and the women will envy you.” A lump in my throat makes it hard to swallow as I force myself to continue smiling. Married. Married. I’ll never marry him. “And my brother will envy me because you are the most handsome woman in Asgard. I’m sure our child we be beautiful as well.” We’re quiet for a moment before I speak up.

                “Are you nervous?” He hesitates but then nods a little.

                “I want it to be healthy, I want you to be healthy, but that may not be possible given our current…predicament.” He sets the book down on the table the rolls over onto his side to face me. I lie still on my back,  even though I have no baby bump yet and it’s only been a few hours, I feel so protective of my stomach. I shiver slightly as he snuggles closer to me, then wraps a hand around my waist. Knowing exactly what he wants, I roll over and our noses brush. He sets his shiver-inducing hand on my cheek and his eyes watch me intently.

                “I promise you, I will do everything in my power to keep you safe.” Lips press against my forehead and a soft caress of my cheek, then he sheds a small tear, as if he truly cares.

                “Thank you, Loki.” A smile wavers on my face and he smiles at me before giving me loving peck on the lips. With a flick of his wrist, the lights go out and he tugs the cover around himself and I. He presses a hand against the small of my back and tugs me closer. He doesn’t adjust his pillows like he normally does, he just presses me against his chest and lets our legs intertwine. Another twinge of nausea makes me want to squirm, but I do nothing and let him do as he pleases. I close my eyes and feel his eyes upon me, watching me as I breathe. I open my eyes when I feel him start to relax minutes later and just like he did, I watch him start to fall asleep.

                His long eyelashes make him look inhuman, which I guess, is an accurate description of him. One of his hands fists my nightgown, as if trying to tug me even closer. I want him to be happy, I want him to stop hurting me. It means I’ll have to stay here and continue to provide him with this tender, fraudulent love. But I want to go home, I want to see my dad and Clara, Dean, and Henning too. I want to be home, but I know that if I try to escape, he’ll only grow angry and make my life even more of a living hell. I bet Dean has dealt with this a lot. As I start drifting off to sleep, I wonder how many jokes Dean would make about my situation.


	11. Welcome Sight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Winchester brothers and Castiel arrive on the Helicarrier to a much relieved Coulson. When Cas suggests a plan for finding Dia, no one wants to take the risk knowing how dangerous it could be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it's a official, I'm a lazy bum. I hope you guys like this chapter and hopefully the next one will be up before January 4th. If not, feel free to smack me. Comment if you have the time! - Effie  
> PS. Visit the site [here](unwillingfic.tumblr.com)

 

**Clara Hill**

      It’s odd knowing that you’re miles away from home on a flying aircraft carrier. At first, the thought had petrified me and I would have never though that I would be used to it. They decided early on that it would be best to not use the flying option of the Helicarrier and for now, we’re making our way along the ocean, somewhere off the coast of the east coast. When I look out the windows, all I see is the vast expansion of ocean, it’s beautiful. Sometimes, if I’m really lucky, I’ll find sea creatures jumping out of the water, though they normally stay away from our the carrier. Last night, I got lucky.

                _My heart races, my clothes stick to my body as I breath heavily. I quickly scan the room, no sign of Loki, then I allow myself to stand up and wobble across the small room into the bathroom. Splashing cool water onto my face wakes me up and forces me to realize that I’m not in any danger. I may not be in my own home and in my own room, but hell, this is the closest it’ll get for quite some time. I grab a black towel and blot my face slightly, then find a hair tie to put my hair up in a ponytail. The ends of my hair are ragged and I realize that I need to get it cut soon. Oh well, it’ll have to wait a while._

_Once out of the bathroom, I close the door behind me and sit down gently on the edge of my bed. The heartbeat thrumming through my ears has slowed down and my breathing is more even. To help myself relax, I open my small porthole window and then stand up to look out of it. The moon and lights from the carrier flicker and sparkle against the calm water. The only sound in the still night is the mechanical noise of the propeller. My breathing catches as something rises out of the water. First a head, then a blow hole. It spurts out water and a small whale song can barely be heard. Then it dives down, it’s tail gracefully cutting the water and splashing the boat a little bit. A feel a few specks of sea water hit my cheek and I close my eyes for a moment, gripping the side of my bed so I don’t lose my balance. This is the happiest that I have ever felt in a quite some time. I slip into bed with a blissful smile on my face and instantly fall asleep. Nothing hurtful crosses my mind. Dia and Loki melt away, out of my thoughts._

                Recalling the memory makes me let out a happy sigh and I cross my room to rummage around in my dresser. It’s a bit small, but it does its’ job. I fish out a pair of jeans and my ‘dwarf-racist party dad’ shirt with a doodle of Thranduil from _The Hobbit_ on it. Dia got it for me last Christmas and everyone burst out laughing when I put it on for the first time. It’s one of my favorite shirts. I pull out my favorite pair of socks, the ones with cute hedgehogs on them, and wiggle them onto my feet. My feet lead me into the bathroom and thankfully, my socks protect from the perpetually cold linoleum underfoot. I find myself staring at the mirror for a few minutes, just looking at my uncut, slightly raggedy hair. I fish out a hair tie and a couple bobby pins from Melanie Stark’s drawer, then put my hair up into a tight bun, like Aunt Maria’s. Feeling the need to put some make up on, I rummage around for some and find some dark pink lipstick and despite the fact that it’s Melanie’s, I still put it on. I put the tube of lipstick back in its’ place, smack my lips, then go back into my room to find my phone.

                The date says _April 17, 2013._ It’s been roughly three months since he took Dia. It’s been two months since I last spoke to my sister and my other friends (mainly Kim Turner, but I explained to her that I was going abroad and she accepted it). I wonder if Riley misses me, she’s only called once, but I was too mad at her to answer so I hung up on her. When I called her back later, our conversation didn’t exactly end well.

                _“What the flying fuck, Riley? You knew, all this time?” I screech, my ears ringing at my own voice._

_“Uhm…yeah…I figured it out a while ago.”_

_“And you never though that you should tell me? Ya know about our aunt being part of a secret government agency that covered up a hell of a lot of stuff?”_

_“She told me not to, said it would be best that way.”_

_“What about Dia? Does she know about her dad and about the whole agency?”_

_“Nope, don’t think so. Phil told his wife before she died, that’s the only one he’s told- I mean, if his G-F is there, then he’s probably told her already.”_

_“Well that’s great.” Sarcasm drips from my voice and I hear my sister audibly sigh through into the phone._

_“She did this to protect us, she didn’t want us in danger. Don’t be too hard on her, Clara.”_

_“Ha, you’re one to talk. You’ve known about this for a while.  How long? Huh, how long?”_

_“A year-“_

_“Fuck everything. Screw, Maria. I’m done with this family. This secret is probably why Dia is gone. The only people we have to blame are these fucking SHIELD people, whoever they are.”_

_“Cla-“_

_“I’m going back to New York, I’m gonna move in with you-“_

_“You can’t-“_

_“Why not?” Silence on the other end. “Why not?”_

_“My girlfriend is living with me.”  
                “GIRLFRIEND? GIRLFRIEND? Since when are you a lesbian?”_

_“Since I was thirteen, dumbo.”_

_“Thanks, another secret to add to the list. Screw you, Riley.”_

_“Clara-“ I hang up and pelt my iPhone at my bed. It lands with a ‘thwap’ and lays there, the screen blinking, as if taunting me to make another phone call to apologize. I don’t. The only thing I feel guilty about is the slightly homophobic comment at the end._

                Checking my texts only makes my heart heavier. Dia’s texts, Kim’s texts, Riley’s texts, and all the kids from school wondering what happened and where I am. Dia and I are stars now. She’s international headlines and I’m the girl that survived the attack. When a federal agent’s daughter goes missing, you can’t cover it up. You can only cover up the fact that the agent isn’t actually an FBI agent. There are rewards out for her safe return. Tip lines that you can call 24/7. News channels constantly run the story with whatever updates are available. They were stalking me a bit before I got onto the carrier. They stalked Agent Coulson too and practically begged him for the scoop. He never answered them. I’ve never answered them either, funny how Melanie, Kim, and I are the only ones that haven’t said anything to the media. The rest of our schoolmates are on the news, claiming that they knew Dia and that she was a great person. They all spout out fictional stories about their friendships with her and they look at the camera with fake tears in their eyes, asking her to come home. Every time I see one of them on the news, I wonder if they got paid a lot to say all that shit.

                Aunt Maria, Coulson, and I were at a press conference a while back, shortly after I woke up. Coulson asked for information regarding Dia’s disappearance and Maria and I only said that there would be no more conferences and that this was our last official statement for the time being.  Tony and Melanie weren’t there, but people knew that they were friends of Coulson so the news anchors hounded them. On the news tapes with Melanie on them, she’s usually bouncy, but all of the ones after Dia’s disappearance had her wearing large sunglasses with not a trace of a smile on her face. It was not the usual Melanie and everyone knew it. I guess the same could be said of me. I think I’m better now, a lot more optimistic when it comes to most stuff. Obviously, I can’t stop thinking about where Dia might be and what she might be doing and about whether or not she’s safe, but otherwise, I’m doing well.

                I grab my cardigan off the back of the desk chair and slip it on, then grab my iPod off of its’ charger. The key to my room is always  in my sweater pocket, and I take it out when I shut the door behind me. After locking the door, I make my way to the cafeteria where I pick up an egg and ham sandwich and a bottle of orange juice. Having you aunt be the deputy director of a secret government agency has very few perks and this is one of them. Free food at any time of the day.

                As I unwrap my sandwich, I give a wave to Clint Barton, the notorious archer and loner that always sits in the same corner of the cafeteria. He nods back at me with a smile on his face, his mouth stuffed full of hash browns and his hair sticking up all over the place. The leather jacket and nice blue jeans make up for his crazy hair. The guy to his left, some scientist with black hair, is eating a mushroom omelet, which makes me gag as I approach their table.

                “Hey Clara, meet my friend, Doctor Bruce Banner.”

                “Nice to meet ya.” I shake hands with the scientist and when Clint motions for me to sit across from them, I gladly take the opportunity. Standing and walking for too long makes my head spin. Once or twice, I’ve fainted because of it, I learned my lesson though.

                “So, today, my friend Tasha is bringing these two brothers to help out with some stuff. They’ll only be here for a few days before  they go back to where ever they’re from.” He says, his mouth slightly stuffed with food.

                “Dean and Sam Winchester?”

                “Yeah, how did ya know?”

                “They’re friends of Coulson and I’ve met them a few times. They hunt supernatural creatures, at least, that’s what Maria told me.”

                “Damn, I like them already. Well you get to meet Tasha and I get to meet these guys. Know anythin’ else about them?”

                “Dean likes beer, Sam likes books. That’s about it, I haven’t really gotten a chance to hang out with them. They mostly talk with Coulson about whatever they talk about.” I shrug and chew my sandwich before posing a question. “When are they supposed to arrive?”

                “Before lunch, it depends on whether or not they stop for Micky D’s.” Clint takes a swig of orange juice and Bruce finally makes a noise, it’s a little chuckle, but it’s still something. He’s quite the quiet fellow.

                Once we finish eating, we still stick around at the table and talk about stuff. Actual normal stuff, like baseball scores and current court cases and Obamacare. Bruce voices his opinion every so often, but it’s mainly Clint and I playfully arguing about things. He compliments me on my shirt, then adds that he has never seen the movie or read the books. It brings back bad memories, but I volunteer to watch the movies with him and loan him the books. I’m the biggest Tolkien fan that I know. Coulson is the biggest Les Mis fan and Captain America fan. I’m pretty sure Clint is a huge fan of the Olympics and archery, but I never press him on those subjects in fear that he might get really excited. Eventually, we do get on the subject of Legolas and archery. He offers me archery lessons and talks about he was offered a spot in the Olympics once but turned it down because he was busy. In the middle of him talking about a girl named Kate Bishop, his cellphone starts chirping… A literal bird tweet. He scowls and quickly answers it.

                “Yeah? Oh hey, Director…okay, cool…we’ll be there soon…conference room or- okay got it…bye.” He presses the ‘end’ button with his rather large thumb and puts his phone away. “The Winchesters are here and they brought some other guy along.” We all get up and head towards the conference room two decks up, near the pilot deck (I guess you could call it a bridge?). As we walks through the halls, Bruce eventually fades away towards his room or wherever. We pass a few agents and eventually, after what seems like ages, we end up at the conference room. I open the door and find Dean chatting with Coulson and Sam with a large book in hand. Maria sits next to him and a strange man in a trench coat is sitting like a statue on the other side of Sam.

                “Hey Dean, hey Sam.” I give them an awkward wave and they both smile at me.

                “How ya doin’?” Dean asks, walking over to me and allowing me to give him a small hug.

                “I’m good, still a bit wobbly.” I point to me head and roll my eyes. “How are you?”

                “Doin’ good, doin’ good. Uh, this is Castiel, our friend-“

                “She knows about this, Mr. Winchester. No need to hide it.” Maria says, her head held sternly.

                “I am an angel of the lord.”

                “Yeah, tell that to Loki.” Clint snickers and and shoves his hands into his pockets.

                “Do you have any leads?”

                “No, well, I mean we’ve met Loki before…but that was different. He wasn’t a homicidal maniac when we met him. He was just a trickster, harmless really-“

                “But he’s changed.” I intervene as I sit down next to Castiel.

                “Alright, well before we go around talking about _him_ , we need to debrief these three.” Maria pulls out a manila folder jammed packed with photographs and forms. She pulls out security camera photos of Loki at our school and I frown at them.

                “Wh-when was this? I-I don’t remember.”

                “Shortly before you two were attacked.”

                “He’s certainly gotten better looking.”

                “I didn’t think Loki was that bad looking when we met him-“

                “Shut up, Sammy.”

                “Anyway, those are from school security cameras. He doesn’t show up anywhere else. Here are the witness statements, crime scene sketches, etcetera. From then on, nothing. We haven’t heard a peep from Loki or Diana. They’ve vanished, most likely to Asgard, Loki’s homeland.”

                “And you’re thinkin’ that he’s a psycho now?”

                “He destroyed the SHIELD headquarters in New Mexico and killed eighty agents and civilians, then practically slaughtered New York. So yes, we are classifying him as a psychopath. Our psychologist says that he is most likely very dangerous. He could have taken her for numerous reasons.” She sighs a little bit and Dean looks up at her, urging her to go on.

                “What reasons?”

                “Dominance, power over someone.” Maria purses her lips slightly and looks down. I notice that Coulson is gone and I’m thankful for that. “There is a chance that he’s a sadist…possibly sexually too.”

                “I may be able to communicate with Loki.” We all stare as Castiel and my mouth pops open.

                “What-what do you mean?”

                “I mean that if I continue to preserve my energy, I may be able to travel to Asgard and speak with Loki-“

                “You can’t go alone-“

                “I have to, it will be a great distance and I cannot afford to drag one of you with me. I apologize.”

                “You’re going to have to preserve you energy so you can take someone with you, I can’t let you go alone. God only knows what he could do to you-“

                “Do not worry, I am a very strong angel-“

                “And he is a god-the trickster god! I’m guessing you can die just as easily as us, well he can’t. From what I can tell, he’s immortal and you alone can’t bring him down.” Maria shakes her head at Cas then leans back in her chair, surveying the mass before her.

                “Hey, I’ll go with ya, Cas. Whenever you’re ready we’ll head up there.”

                “Very well, I will be ready within a month.”

                “A month?! We don’t have that much time-“

                “I need that much time, I apologize.”

                “Damn it Cas, we don’t have _time_.” Dean hisses throwing his hands up in the air.

                “We can travel in about a week, but once we arrive on Asgard, we will not be able to travel home for much longer-“

                “I don’t advise sticking around Loki, it’s the worst option possible. Like Huang said, he could be psychotic and could lash out.”

                “Okay, do you guys have any maps of this place?” This is the best time for me to leave. I don’t want to get involved in their battle plans.

                “I’m gonna leave now before you guys get me involved. Stop by before you leave, ‘kay?”

                “Sure thing.” Sam gives me a small smile which I gladly return as I make my quiet exit. I close the door behind me and almost wish that Clint at followed me out, so I wait a moment, the air stuck in my throat. Nothing, and so I continue on down the hallway.  When we first met, I heartily welcomed the friendship he offered and now I’m clinging to it like a lifeline. He’s the only person I trust, the only one that I can spill my secrets to. Melanie will hop around and spill them all. Maria isn’t exactly trustworthy anymore. And Riley…well Riley is miles away and I don’t think she’d want to hear my fears. Clint is the only one who is just as afraid of Loki as I am. Maybe we’ll conquer the fear together.


	12. Stranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After finding out Kenna's darkest secret, Dia meets a woman who is willing to betray Odin in order to help Loki, no matter the cost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I'm been such a lazy ass, oops. Here's chapter twelve, WOW. Very proud of how far this has come and I'm so thankful for every comment, kudos, and reader that I've had so far. Thank you and I love you all. xx Effie  
> Check out the site [here](http://unwillingfic.tumblr.com).

                For at least three nights, sleep seems to evade me like a fly. You finally find some glimpse of it, go after it, and end up with nothing in the end. If that makes sense. I've been constantly on edge after Loki's sudden explosion earlier in the week. He was visibly upset at dinner on Saturday and when I questioned him about it, he started raising his voice as he ranted about how I'm always questioning him and that all women are like this. On Monday, he slapped me across the face and called me an 'ungrateful wench' after I criticized the food. Last night, he claimed that Katia (the most sympathetic person I've met so far in Asgard) said it was alright to have sex. I immediately shot down the idea, not because of the baby, but because I did not want to be raped by him again. I know it sounds harsh, but I don't think I want this child. It's a product of rape and I can't raise it with the constant reminder of him, especially if I ever escape. If I do actually find a way out, any reminder of him will be shredded and thrown away. I can't have a remind of my pain lingering over me like a wilting tree branch. How many rapes have I gone through? I don't know, I don't count them for obvious reasons. As you would assume, I added another rape to the list after last night.

                There was no struggle, just my verbal protests as he laid me down and stretched my arms above my head. He used magic to bind them so he could kiss my small, swollen stomach. His finger traced patterns over my breasts and down my thighs. His desperate kisses against my thighs make me squirm and he places a kiss on my clit. Fingers dig into my hips and I squeak as he drags me across the bed so I'm at the edge of it. Just like. Every. Single. Time. He plunges in and I block it all out. In the morning, it's inevitable to relive it as I drag my fingers across the bite marks and red splotches on my skin.

                This morning, I wake up with marks on my arms and my breakfast on a tray, waiting for me. After reading and eating for a short while, I curl back up into a ball around my tiny stomach and fall back asleep until I'm awoken by a tuft of hair sticking up my nose. For a moment, I forget where I am and I feel like I'm home, sitting with the quilt my grandma made me. It feels like Henning is waking me up, desperate to go for a walk and unleash his pee on the street corner. I haven't felt this giddy in months and I smile as his tongue slurps at my cheek. His tail hits my leg but the tail wagging quickly stops when the doors open. The dog whines when the sound of heavy footsteps and a grumble can be heard.

                “What the hell are you doing here?“ I sit up, my heart racing at Loki's signature “angry, I'm going to kill you“ voice. He glares down at the dog next to me and I glance over at it, taken aback by the thing next to me. It's larger than a wolf with large paws and a slender tail now tucked between its' mighty legs. It whines and bends it's head, then a small “sorry” is uttered from its' mouth. Holy shit.

                “Are you alright?“ He glances over at me and notices that I'm staring at the large, black-haired creature next to me.

                “I-I'm fine, what is that?”

                “That is my son, Fenrir.”

                “Your son?“ It only goes to show that my theory of how fucked up he is, is true. He's completely fucked up.

                “Yes, my son.“ Loki grumbles and then motions towards the door.

                “Out now, I need to speak with Diana alone.“ He hops down from the bed and before he exits, he gives me a depressed look. Without hesitation, he opens the door with his paws and closes it behind him in the same manner. That is a talented...creature. “Now, I will be leaving tonight and my friend will be watching over you. As will Kenna. I trust you will behave and not make a fool of yourself in front of her.”

                “What's her name?“ I try to keep the giddiness undetectable in my voice, but he gives me an even bigger glare than before.

                “Brynhild, she a good friend of mine.”

                “What are you doing without me?”

                “Hunting, another reason why Bryn is staying with you.”

                “How long will you be gone?”

                “Only a night, I will supply you with plenty of books and the two of them will be here to keep you company.”

                “And make sure that I don't escape, no need to add that in.” He lets out a loud huff and I notice that the tray at the end of my bed, which has the empty plates from breakfast, are free of crumbs.

                “Looks like Fenrir got to your breakfast.” He chuckles and examines the porcelain plates.

                “I ate it before he came in.”

                “Good, I do not wish to deprive you of food. Have you taken the herbs?”

                “Of course, I know you'll be on my case if I don't.” A smile spreads across his pale face and he sits on the edge of the bed next to me. It's not unlike him to go from intense glaring to pressing me up against the wall and putting a hand in my underwear. While I certainly do mind it, at the same time, I'm growing used to it. I fear that one of these days, I won't mind it or I'll grow to like it. I haven't grown used to his gruff manner, like dismissing his son without a second thought at considering that I might like him to stay or that he might like to stay.

                “Have you been feeling well?”

                “Yeah, why?” I'm not going to tell him that my boobs have really fucking tender and painful.

                “I am concerned.”

                “You've never been concerned before.” He hears my almost inaudible snark and gives me a curt slap on the cheek. My mouth opens to sass him, but it closes and I shut up. Exactly what he wants me to do and I'm not going against him, not now.

                “Right from the start, you have not been grateful that you are loved by a prince; the future king of Asgard.” I focus on the sheets that are covering my legs. The plain green color does nothing to distract me from his anger. “You are the only one to gain my affection and you simply dismiss it, why?”

                “I don't love you. Why can't you get that through your thick skull?” Just as I expect, he slaps me again, this time it's more forceful.

                “Soon enough, you will cling to me.” He closes his eyes and composes himself before saying, “I will be back tonight before I leave.” He kisses me on the check and leaves without another word or slap.  As if nothing happened, I reach over for a book from the stack that sits on the nightstand. Some are leather bound while some are simple hardcovers. The one I pick up is _The Origin of Species_  by Charles Darwin. Scanning the spines of the others, I notice that they're all historical non-fiction. The Communist Manifesto by Karl Marx, _The Rhetoric and The Poetics of Aristotle_ , and it goes as far as _Mein Kampf_ by Adolf Hitler. I'm scared to pick up the last one, but I'm curious nonetheless. There aren't many people that can say that they've read _Mein Kampf_ and not many people want to admit to doing so.

                I go with my original choice and plod through page after page, not noticing the darkness of night creeping outside the window. However, I do notice Kenna's entrance and the fact that she's not dressed in her usual uniform. Tonight, she's traded in her plain, navy blue gown for a less form fitting, light pink gown that flows around her feet as she walks. She's still wearing long sleeves, but the neckline is in a sweetheart shape and there are a few tiny bruises visible on her chest as well as a large, red mark barely covered by the neckline.  The only reason I notice them is because of the neckline and the necklace with a tree pendant almost covering one of the bruises. A few days ago, she had bruises along her neck just like the ones now.

                “You look awfully nice today.”

                “Thank you. Brynhildr is a well-respected warrior, I wanted to look nice.” Kenna looks like she wants to say something else, but doesn't. Instead she looks around for somewhere to sit and reluctantly accepts my invitation to sit on the bed when I motion to her. “Why are you not well dressed?” I look down, I'm still in my nightgown.

                “I've got nowhere to go.”

                “You should change out of your nightgown, you are meeting a very important woman, for gods’ sake!”

                “Alright, alright, I'll change.” I laugh and set my book down on the nightstand, then get up, my nightgown shifting to reveal my own bruises on my shoulder. As I open the closet, Kenna gets up and stands next to me, admiring my vast array of clothing, each precisely tailored to fit me. Some of the items probably won't fit once the baby bump grows bigger, oh well, I'll just continue to lounge in my nightgowns.

                “Here, this one.” She reaches to my right and pulls a purple dress off of the rack. It's simple and has gold embroidery around the bottom. I don't argue and strip off in the bathroom. I don't mind getting undressed around Kenna, she doesn't stare or say anything, just simply looks away or continues doing her duties. She turns towards me and our gaze connects just as her eyes dart to my stomach, which is quite small, and then back up.

                “You are with child?”

                “Yeah, I think it's a little girl-” I wiggle into the dress and pull it over my head, which hides my faint smile. I'm still conflicted about whether or not I want to have this...child...thing...fetus.

                “Why did you not tell me?”

                “I forgot, I guess, I assumed Loki would tell you or you would notice all the herbs in the bathroom.”

                “You should have told me-”

                “I'm sorry, okay, but you've been keeping secrets too. I've seen those bruises on you, every so often. What are they from?”

                “You are not in a position to ask about it.” Kind of funny, considering that I'm technically your mistress or whatever you want to call the person that commands their maid.

                “Aren't I? You're my friend-”

                “Friend?”

                “Yeah, friend. I'd like to know what's going on.” She opens her mouth like a fish and looks down at the floor as I grab a brush to start brushing out my tangled hair. Even though my hair is naturally straight, it gets tangled easily, it's such a hassle. As I struggle with the knots and tug at my scalp, like Loki does, and I watch her closely.

                “I too would like to know what is happening in your life, but obviously you have kept it from me. How long have you been pregnant?”

                “I'm barely showing, so three months, maybe. End of the first trimester? I don't know. I found out, like, two weeks ago. If you want to know the other details, Loki and I had a mini-fight over how I didn't want it and then I decided that I wanted to name it after my mother who's been dead for, like, ten years.” I'm getting a bit irritated and it's very hard to be irritated with her.

                “Thank you for finally telling me.”

                “Noooooo problem.” I smooth out my dress in the mirror and try to see how noticeable the bump is. I wouldn't say it's noticeable, but it's there. If you look at my stomach, you'd notice that I look a bit bloated. Kenna sighs from her place in the doorway and I turn to face her.

                “It was from my husband, last night.”

                “Wait... Is he abusing you?”

                “No, we were making love-”

                “And what about that red mark?” I point out the mark on her right shoulder, her hand moves up and tugs the neckline to cover it but I walk over and stop her. “What's it from? Be honest with me, please.”

                “He was a bit angry last night.”

                “So he is abusing you-”

                “No, that is not what I said. It was only last night-”

                “Why was he angry?” She mimics a fish again and rapidly blinks, trying to put together an acceptable sentence.

                “He thought th-that I was being unfaithful to him. I d-don't want to talk about this anymore.” I soften up slightly as she sulks out into the bedroom. I have a feeling that we're both feeling a bit guilty, though I'm probably the guiltiest. I can only sit here and do nothing to protect her from her husband, I'm helpless. As I walk out into the room, the doors open and Loki steps in wearing a fur shawl, followed by a tall, stately looking woman. Her dark red gown trailed across the floor and she greeted us with a curt nod, not a hint of a smile on her face.

                “This is Brynhildr, she will be watching over you until I’m back.”

                “It is a pleasure to meet you.” Kenna says, curtsying as she does so. She tugs my arm and I do the same.

                “It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Diana.” First of all, no one calls me that and second, don’t ignore my friend. I want to say, I keep my mouth shut.

                “Thank you.” I murmur, unsure of how to react.

                “You are human, are you not?”

                “Yeah, I am. I'm sorry that I've uhm never studied your culture and Loki hasn’t told me much about you.”

                “Not many humans do, it is quite alright.” She gives us a small smile and glances back at Loki, who seems to be impatiently fidgeting.

                “I best be off, be good, little dove.” Loki kisses me on the cheek and gives my hand a squeeze, but it's more of a warning than a reassurance. He smiles gently and once he exits the room, we all relax.

                “I have arranged out dinner to be here shortly, hopefully they will be on time.” There's an awkward pauses as she walks over to the table, frowns, and waves her hand. Another, identical chair appears and she sits down in it.

                “So you're a magician and a warrior?”

                “Not a true magician, I am not as talented as Freyr or Loki. However, I do surpass Freyr in many areas.  He is too soft and should not be a king. Neither should Odin.”

                “I haven't met him yet.”

                “One of these days, you will have the privilege.”

                We continue with the small talk, asking about what her life but she offers up very few details and her stern face never softens. The subject of needlework and how it bores her to death manages to come up but we're interrupted when a young woman walks in, balancing a tray of food on each hand. She sets them down in front of us and Kenna gives her a nod and a smile.

                “Thank you, Tovah.”

                “Anything for you, dearest Kenna.” The woman lays a tan hand on her shoulder, respectfully acknowledges us, and leaves with a small smile on her face. I remember Kenna mentioning her once or twice, saying how Tovah is studying to be a healer but in the meantime, she's a maid. Diverting my attention to the trays, I notice there are three bowls of porridge, three bowls of mixed vegetables, three goblets and two pitchers, a few glass jars of spices, a jar of honey, a large bowl of fruit, and a small note card with my name on it. It's in Loki's handwriting, like in some of his books where he has _Property of Loki Laufeyson_ written on first page. The two of them don't notice and take their bowls of porridge while I open the note.

_Dearest Diana,_

___ It has only been hours and I miss you already. Promise me that you are not touching yourself without me. A special present is waiting for you in the closet, another will arrive whenever I do. Take your vitamins, rest well, and do not miss me too much._

_All my love,_

_Loki Laufeyson_

 

                My stomach drops and I crumple the note, as I'm about to throw it behind me, a bout of nausea takes me by surprise. Their heads pops up from their food when I run to the bathroom and throw up nothing but bile, water, and possible a few left over breakfast items. Kenna comes skittering in, asking what's wrong. I wave her away and stand up, my legs wobbling slightly. I tear off a bit of toilet paper, wipe my mouth, and throw it into the toilet along with the note, then flush it all down.

                “I'm fine.” My hollow tone forces her to only nod and not argue with whatever I say. We walk back into the room and sit down, Brynhildr  is watching me and chewing her food thoughtfully.

                “I hope you are not ill.”

                 “No, I-I'm pregnant.” I pick up the bowl of porridge and then steal the jar of honey from its' spot next to Kenna.

                 “Congratulations. Do you know the sex?”

                 “I think it's a little girl, but we haven't found out yet.” In hopes that she'll drop the subject, I put a bit of honey on my porridge and start eating.

                 “One day I wish to have children of my own, but the we are not a fertile as humans. It is difficult to conceive, when a woman does, it is a grand celebration. I assume you are in confinement for now.”

                 “Yeah, I'm uhm sorry.”

                 “Do not apologize for something you cannot control.” Her stern voice sends prickles up my spine and I shut up. We quietly continue eating with a few words here or there. Afterwards, I do a bit of stretching and take my place back in bed. Kenna takes the trays out but leaves the goblets and pitchers, then then comes back quietly. The silence in the air is almost tangible and only breaks when she speaks up.

                 “May I sit with you?”

                 “Sure.” I nod, and pat the bed next to me. I notice that Brynhildr is still sitting in her seat with a book in hand, that she must have conjured up.

                 “What are you reading?”

                 “An old book from the palace's library. You seem very fond of books.”

                 “Yeah, but I a lot of this are historical nonfiction. I prefer fiction, I guess Loki couldn't find any.” I give a small shrug and she smiles, then motions to the book at the top of the pile.

                 “What are you currently reading?”

                 “ _Origin of Species_ by Charles Darwin.”

                 “Sounds quite dull.”

                 “Definitely not the best book I’ve read,” I laugh and tilt my head to the side a little, “Will you be staying with us for the night?”

                 “Yes.”

                 “Do you have a bed-”

                 “I rarely sleep and when I do, I’m quite fitful. Loki wishes me to watch over you two and so I shall.”

                 “Do you do everything he says?”

                 “Of course not,” She laughs, “I owe him a favor, that is all.” She takes a swig from her goblet and refills it. It’s obviously red wine (or cranberry juice?), the other pitcher is water for me. “You ask too many questions, dear.”

                 “Sorry.” Bryn rolls her eyes at my apology and instead of speaking anymore, I grab my book and start reading. Since dinner is always served rather late in the evening, Kenna’s eyes start to close as she snuggles against me. Her head is placed on my shoulder and her hands grip my arm like a vice. Eventually Bryn pulls the curtains close and I wiggle Kenna lose from my arm so I can get dressed in my nightgown. She moves only a little and I open the closet to search for something to wear. I settle on a long, satin nightgown with a warm velvet overcoat. It's one of my favorites. It makes me feel like a queen.

                 “I know why you are here.” Bryn says, no hint of emotion in her voice. “To be his lover, his pet-”

                 “How do you know?” I spin around, clutching the outfit against my chest. If she knows, then why doesn't she help me? Is she that obedient?

                 “There's a certain glimmer in ones' eyes when they are trapped and desperate.”

                 “If you know, then why haven't you offered to help me escape?”

                 “It is of no use, you cannot get out,” She shrugs, “Besides, Loki needs a lover.”

                 “You don't care that I've been kidnapped?”

                 “I have my own pet. Revealing you would spell an end for me, Tyr, and countless others.”

                 “Wait, so this is illegal?”

                 “It depends on the actions one takes towards their pets.”

                 “Stop calling us pets-” I finally drop the clothes and curl my hands into fists.

                 “What do you want me to call you? Slaves, whores, sluts-”

                “Enough, enough-” She steps towards me, her anger obviously rising and soon, she's in my face. Her hand darts up to my neck and gives it a squeeze.

                 “If I had a whip, you'd be down on the floor right with welts on your backs. Consider yourself lucky that I am being merciful.” My trembling makes her smile and she throws me back slightly, making me stumble backwards. I scoop up my nightgown and once I'm finished getting dressed, I get back into bed next to Kenna.

                 “Caring for her will not protect her. Consider this a warning, Tyr does not take kindly to people helping his little whore-”

                 “She is not a whore, you lit-”

                 “She's fucked more men than you and I combined, I have the right to call her a name such as that.” I reach out towards her thin frame which weighs a ton and cradle it against my chest. Finally, her eyes flit open, the tears in them break my heart. I guess my motherly love is coming out sooner than I expected. I place a small kiss on her forehead and give her a comforting squeeze, the feeling of Bryn eye rolling makes me even more furious. The snarkiness will only give her a reason to slap me or worse, I keep my mouth shut and close my eyes to try to get some sleep.

 


	13. Shadow in the Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unbeknownst to Coulson, Dean Winchester takes matters into his own hands and risks his life to make sure Dia is safe.

 

                “Dude, no offense, but your plan is insane.” Everyone at the table agrees, except for Phil Coulson. Dean shakes his head and rubs his brow, it’s possible that he’s only disagreeing out of jealousy, but he doesn’t voice his feelings… Then again, he never does unless it’s to his brother.

                “Doing this will only mean having the whole Coulson family stranded on Asgard with no way of getting home.”

                “Even going by myself is risky,” Cas says as he shifts around in the corner of the conference room. He’s been standing there the whole time, not even wanting to sit down once. The rest of the group, Maria, Phil, Dean, Sam, Clara, and Clint had taken their seats before his entrance and were awkwardly shifting in their seats.

                “I think Dean or I should go-“

                “A SHIELD agent, no one else, that’s final.” Maria cuts in, her stern glare boring a hole through Dean’s head. It’s not often that he feels so intimidated and he reluctantly nods along with her statement.

                “So it’s either you, me, or Clint.”

                “Phil, you can’t go. Last time you confronted Loki, you were dead for eight days. He sees that you’re alive and he’ll try to kill you again or do worse. Clint, you shouldn’t go either, I don’t want you dead or mind-controlled.” He bites his tongue, not wanting to say that he’s gotten over it (even though he hasn’t).

                “So you want to do it? Nah, I’m the one who as experience with gods and angels. You’re a desk jockey-“

                “Dean, shut up-“

                “If anyone should go with Cas over there, it’ll be me. I’m sorry for disagreeing, but dealing with weirdoes like Loki is our specialty.”

                “And what about Dia? Are you going to be the one comforting her?” Maria’s eye twitches slightly as she crosses her arms over her chest. _Desk jockey? You don’t know the worst I can do to you._ If she wanted to, she could easily strangle him right then and there, but that would be overkill and she didn’t want to make the situation worse for Phil.

                “Hell yeah, I can comfort her-“

                “Dean, when was the last time you hugged someone-“

                “Shut it, Sam, I’m trying to help them-“

                “Maybe I should go alone-“

                “No.” The chorus of voices makes Cas raise his eyebrows and once everyone’s minds quickly return to the subject at hand, they start squabbling again.

                “How about we rule out who can’t go?”

                “Clara and Sam will stay here, definitely.”

                “You do know that my weakened powers will only hinder the rescue mission if someone else decides to tag along?”

                “How long will it take for your powers to return?”

                “Possibly months.”

                “We don’t have that much time. Look, how about we all just agree that Cas and Dean will go. If they can’t get her out of there, they’ll help her find a way out.”

                “But the Bifrost was destroyed, there’s no way back unless it’s through Castiel.”

                “Bifrost?” Dean frowns and glances towards his brother, looking for an explanation.

                “It’s a rainbow bridge that connects Asgard to our world and the other worlds-“

                “A goddamn princess unicorn bridge?”

                “It’s gone now, Loki and Thor both destroyed it. It might be repaired, but I highly doubt it.” Maria takes a sip of her black coffee and puts her head in her hands. Most days, she feels that taking on this case for Phil is the worst decision she has ever made. Clara and her sister discovered the lies they’ve been fed all their lives and she felt that the world would eventually discover SHIELD again. After the Battle of New York, the water systems had been treated with a memory-loss drug that they had concocted. For some, it only erased that day, for others, it erased months. The drug spread far and wide, into the water systems of Russia, China, North Korea, and even Antarctica. SHIELD agents had taken the antidote for it and remembered many parts of the attack, but not all. Many details of the event had slipped Maria’s mind, but certainly not Phil’s.

                “How about we just go with a simple plan? Cas and I beam up there, we talk to her, find out what’s up, and then we come back down here to form a plan of attack.”

                “You’re forgetting one thing, how do we attack when we have no way of getting into Asgard and no way of attacking a god?”

                “Okay, we leave that for later.”

                “Have you guys realized that we’re apparently dealing with a psychopath who is possibly raping her every damn chance he gets?” Clara’s sudden statement makes the room grow silent. Not a word is said and no one makes a move.

                “She’s right,” Clint nodded along with his new friend, “You remember what Loki said to Nat? He threatened her with rape and torture that I would inflict on her while being controlled. He made me kill however many people that I can’t remember. He wants to take over this world and you two numskulls intend to go chat with him?” He leans back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. “It’s not going to work. This team doesn’t know how to deal with this shit. Get your psychiatrist in and get his opinion. If the shrink deems him psychotic and capable of killing someone, we only send Cas. He can handle it.”

                “Thank you for showing confidence in me.” A chorus of eye rolls follows and afterwards, they all reluctantly agree to talk with Dr. Huang in New York. Unbeknownst to the rest of the group, Dean is going to go to Asgard no matter the verdict. Later on in the week, Huang deems Loki psychotic and Dean Winchester still tucks in gun into his thigh holster and packs enough bullets to bring down an elephant.

                The next day, Dean and Cas disappear without a word.

                “Oh my god, Dean Winchester.” She hasn’t said that name in months and the sound of it is foreign. Dia doesn’t question his sudden appearance with a man in a trench coat, she just goes with it and assumes that he has magic like Loki’s. Dia and Dean are close friends but they never got to spend much time together before her disappearance, nevertheless, he’s one of her only friends that she regularly contacted (other than him, Clara, and Melanie, the other friends were simply ones from school). Dean often worked with her father and whether or not he still does is a mystery to her. The grin on the hunter’s face says it all and he takes a few long strides towards her before enveloping her in a hug. Despite feeling the obvious baby bump, he doesn’t say anything about it.

                “I-I-I can’t believe it-“ Her own sobs cut her off and she buries her face into his leather jacket. For once it’s not the strange smell of Loki’s armor and leather, it’s a warm, comforting smell. They stand together for what seems like hours, with Castiel standing and quietly admiring the room in the corner.

                “I’m so sorry th-that we couldn’t come sooner.”

                “You’re here now.” For once in the past few months, the smile on her face is genuine and the tears on her reddened cheeks are ones of joy. When they pull away from each other, his eyes dart down to her stomach and back up to her red face.

                “How-“

                “I’m not even half way through,” he frowns slightly at her statement, “Asgardians have longer life-spans and longer gestation rates.”

                “Please tell me you’re not gonna end up like Bella from _Twilight_.”

                “I don’t know, I don’t know anymore.” He clears his throat, unsure of what to say next. Knowing that there is nothing in the world that could comfort her, he lets her speak. “How’s Dad?”

                “He’s good, he really misses you.”

                “And Clara and Miranda?”

                “They’re good, they’re with Phil, they all want you home.”

                “Is Clara, is she okay? I mean-“

                “She’s doing great, there wasn’t much damage, she gets migraines but that’s it.”

                “Is Miranda still with the New York Symphony?”

                “She’s on a break right now, she’s with Phil and Clara.”

                “Look, i-if you’re going to rescue me then we have no time to waste. Otherwise, you need to leave before he finds you.”

                “Cas, my angel friend over here, doesn’t have enough power to transport us all back home. Only himself and one other. Leaving me here would be my death and leaving you here is the safest bet.” Her mouth gapes slightly at the mentioning of an angel. _So God and Jesus do exist? What about the Egyptian gods and the Greek ones?_

                “I know, I’ll stay.” An awkward pause follows and she sits down on the edge of the bed, motioning for him to follow. Just looking at him makes her feel like she’s at home. She’d feel even better if her father had come along too but it would put him in even more danger and seeing as the angel friend couldn’t teleport him, it’s definitely not something she wants. They sit there for a moment and she looks down at her lap as she speaks in a calm manner. “He’ll always be there.”

                “What?”

                “He’ll always be there watching me, waiting for the right moment to strike and take me away again.”

                “How do you know?”

                “Believe me, he won’t give me up easily.” Dia wipes her tears away and unsure of what to say, he only tugs her close and lets her put her head on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry I roped you into this. I’m s-so sorry, Dean.”

                “It’s okay,” Dean reaches into his coat pocket and hands her a few pieces of paper folded into a rectangle, “This is for you-“

                “What a day- Who are you?” Loki’s voice echoes through the room as the door swings closed and Castiel turns towards him, the same expression as before is still across his face. She tucks the papers into the drawer of her nightstand and swivels back around.

                “I am Castiel, an angel of the Lord.”

                “Care to elaborate and why you are here, Castiel? Hope you aren’t here to inflict your horrid, monotheistic beliefs on me.”

                “I am here to speak with Diana Coulson.” Loki’s dark laughter makes the hair on the back of Dean’s neck stand up. Instincts tell him to hide her somewhere, but there is nothing in the universe that can protect a person from Loki Laufeyson. It’s a well-known fact that it’s hard to stop, let alone kill, a god. When he steps into Dean’s view, a smile spreads across the god’s face and she instinctively squeezes his freckled hand.

                “Dean, please leave now.” Even when Dia desperately pushes him towards Cas, he stays still, watching his every move.

                “Ah, Dean Winchester, what a pleasure.”

                “I can’t say the same to you.” Dean stands slowly, the two men sizing each other up.

                “Come here, little dove, I do not want you in the line of fire.” Panic bubbles up within her as she gets up off the bed, gives Dean’s arm a reassuring squeeze, and walks over to stand by Loki’s side. He places a finger under her chin with his thumb brushing her lips and then wipes the tears off of her face.

                “I thought this would be just a friendly chat.” Dean’s eye twitches as Loki places a kiss on her forehead, then nudges her behind him, as if shielding her from Dean’s gaze.

                “She has been crying,” he holds an open hand at his side and a golden scepter materializes in his hand, “Why?” Not a word is spoken as he picks at the red stains on the scepter.

                “Whose blood is that?”  
                “The blood of a dead man. It will soon be yours’ if you are not careful.”

                “Does she even know?”

                “Know what?” Her head cranes around his shoulder, barely noticing Loki’s jaw clenching and unclenching.

                “He tried to kill your father.”

                “What? No, no, not that-“

                “Almost hit his heart, he was unconscious for eight days and went home saying he was stabbed by a terrorist. Yeah, he told me all about it.”

                “Say another word and I will gladly throw you out the window.”

                “His heart stopped when he tried to stop Loki from destroying New York. SHIELD and the CIA covered it all up-“ A clone of Loki shimmers to life in front of Dean and grabs his throat, pressing him against the wall next to the vanity.

                “Loki, please, please don’t do this-“ Another clone throws Cas onto the floor with ease, not even wincing when he tries to fight back. The feeling of her throat closing signals a round of unstoppable tears and with little other thoughts in her head, she shakes his shoulder.

                “The baby doesn’t like this, stop, stop-“ The clones disappear and Dean drops to the floor, breathing heavily just like everyone else in the room.

                “Come here,” Loki’s curled finger beckons to the hunter, “come.” He doesn’t move and knowing that he won’t move unless forced, the god stretches out his hand as if wrapping around his neck. Now, no longer on the floor, Dean is dragged into the air by the invisible force and brought in front of Loki. They barely notice Dia trembling behind him, her ribs aching and her pulse driving her insane.

                “This will ensure that you never set foot here again.” He lets go and a dagger appears in his hand. Through the tears, Dia watches as her friend’s throat is slit before her. Blood gushes from the wound and as he drops onto his knees, she does the same but clings to Loki’s legs to support herself. She reaches out towards him with trembling fingers. He finally drops into a fetal position and the two visitors suddenly disappear. All that is left is a puddle of Dean Winchester’s blood.

                “No, pl-“

                “He will never hurt you again, not while I am here.” As lovingly as ever, he picks her up and places her on the bed. Despite his cruel actions, she doesn’t let go and latches onto him. Her sobbing doesn’t stop for hours and he sits with her, his armor becoming tainted by tears.

                The next day, death quietly arrives in the night to sweep its’ next victim away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm such a slow writer, I apologize. This chapter probably has one of the biggest cliffhangers of the series. Does Dean die... or does someone else? Mhhhhh, in the next chapter, it'll be revealed. If you want more go to [the site](http://unwilling.tumblr.com). Also, thank you so much to my readers. I just realized that the fic has gotten to 100 kudos. HOLY CRAP?! I cannot express my gratitude enough! I love all of my readers, thank you so much for commenting and reading. You guys mean the world to me and your comments brighten my day. Thank you for everything. - Effie  
> PS. My Tumblr URL has changed, so [here's a handy link](http://ech0tang0.tumblr.com).


	14. Angel on Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tragedy strikes again on Asgard, leaving Dia with nothing left to hold onto except for Kenna...and Loki.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS CHAPTER IS VERY TRIGGERING. THERE WILL BE BLOOD AND BAD THINGS. Obviously, I don't want to spoil it but something bad happens. More notes at the end.

                Waking up in the morning and remembering the events of the other day make me dread living. A weight in my stomach (other than the baby) is making my mood sag tremendously. Last night, before I fell asleep, he told me a simple fact. _Dean Winchester is dead, you have nothing to fear now._ What he doesn’t know is how much I fear death and how much I fear that he’s going to kill another person I love. I’ve had a crush on Dean for the past year. It _was_ just a little crush, I admired him for being strong and brave. I wanted to be like him. He had strange friends and a nice younger brother named Sam who reminds me of Clara. They’re both smart and love reading, they’re nerdy and kind. I guess that could describe myself too…but now I think the only thing that describes me accurately is “dead inside”.

                I’ve been lying here on my side for a while now. I can’t lie on my back to long because Katia claims that’s bad for the baby. I don’t know why, maybe I’m just really stupid. Sex education was not a class I paid much attention to, it was not something that I thought was pertinent to getting good grades. I still don’t think it’s pertinent to getting good grades. Besides, you learn about all this shit on the internet…or by being brutally raped multiple times by a man that you’ve never met before. Katia should give me TMI warnings when she’s describing childbirth and what’s natural during pregnancy. Though I guess it’s good to know that the occasional blood or strange liquid coming from my privates is natural.

                Is it natural to feel unattached to the child growing within me? No, it’s not. I would never tell Loki this. He’s already cooing at my stomach, making plans for its’ future even though we don’t know the sex. It’s possible that he cares about the baby more than me.

                “Morning, love.” He’s woken up and turns over towards me, immediately outstretching his hand to place it on my stomach. Normally the baby will give a kick or two, some days it’s silent and today is one of those days. “Guess he doesn’t want to greet papa this morning.” He laughs a little and scoots over closer to me so that our legs are intertwined. He gives me a kiss and nuzzles my nose with his. We’re quiet for a minute before he bites his lip, unsure of something on his mind.

                “I know that you think what I did yesterday was wrong,” He looks down as if he feels guilty, knowing that I don’t want him to bring it up, but he continues talking, “But you must understand that he is a threat to my kind… Or rather, to every supernatural being that he comes across.” Loki looks up at me and there’s actually a hint of guilt in his voice.

                “So you killed him?”

                “If I didn’t, then he would kill me and the rest of the Asgardians. Anyone that poses a threat, even a minor one, to the human race, is exterminated. I met him once and he will not hesitate to kill everyone in the room. He kills vampires, werewolves, shape shifters, gods, even the most benign creature will die in his presence. I could not risk it. I am so sorry.” Our fingers intertwine and he brings our hands to his lips, then places on a long kiss on my hand. His eyes close and we don’t speak, we sit there together for what seems like hours.

                “I have had nightmares,” his voice breaks and with his eyes closed, he seems to be trembling slightly, “Where the Winchester brothers kill you and everyone I love. When I saw him, I knew, I knew that I could not risk our deaths.” The desperation in his voice is evident, tears are starting to slide down his cheeks. He squeezes my hands and bends his head down. I know he meant well…but Dean was my friend and I can’t just forgive him for that.

                “I pray to the ancestors every day that none of my friends cross-“ Loki is about to speak again,  I cut him off by placing a kiss on his lips.

                “It’ll be okay.” A weak smile appears on both of our faces and he squeezes my hand before rolling over on his back to get up. I sit up in bed, watching him as he wipes his eyes and then as he gets dressed in his usual attire, then he disappears from view, I twiddle my fingers. The books on my nightstand remind me that I’ve finished them all. Yes, even _Mein Kamph_. I didn’t enjoy it. I stand up and slowly approach the windows, then draw the curtain aside. The light pours in and I’m elated to see small, white birds flying by. I’ve never been good at identifying birds, though I can recognize pigeons because they seem to overtake New York City on sunny days. It would be hilarious if they were storks, but they’re not big enough, then again, I’ve never even seen a stork. I have seen plenty of blue herons though. Herons are common in the ponds outside of the city and I love watching them. Before this, I would have never thought I would miss such a simple thing. I miss pointing out the blue herons that were standing at the edge of the ponds, quietly surveying their domain. I love seeing them fly away with such grace and Dad loves it too.

                I wonder if he’s home, I want to know if still does the little things that we used to do together. We had mac n’ cheese Wednesdays, even if we were separated, we would both have mac n’ cheese and sometimes we’d chat on Skype during our meals. I wonder if he still stares at my mother’s urn on Sundays. Her family raised her as a strict Christian, but she didn’t want to go that route and avoided church at all costs but she still liked to keep Sundays reserved for spending time with family. It’s one of the few memories I have of her. We liked sitting on the couch together, sometimes we’d read or watch TV or play with our dog, who was an old Basset Hound named Violet. Now I’m getting nostalgic.

                I didn’t notice the pregnancy hormones kicking in until and felt snot dribbling down onto my lip. Quickly wiping it off, I turn around when the sound of Loki’s footsteps set me on edge. I don’t want him to see me cry, he’ll be concerned and I don’t want that.

                “What is wrong?” He’s noticed the tears, shit.

                “I was…I was just thinking about stuff.” I shrug and turn back to the window, then press my forehead against the glass. It’s cool despite the warm sunlight filtering through it. “I want to go outside, feel the sun again and feel grass.” It’s not exactly a lie.

                “I promise, as soon as you give birth, you will be allowed out. You can sit under the willows with Valia for as long as you’d like, I promise.” Valia? No, her name is Claire. If I were incredibly sappy and pathetic, I would have named her Hope. But no, her name is Claire and that is that.

                “Her name is Claire.”

                “We will argue about this later.” It takes me a moment to realize that he’s closed the distance between us and he wraps his arms just under my breasts. He gives me a long kiss on the cheek and he nuzzles into my neck. “I love you.” Just those three words can set me off into a crying spree, it happened a few nights ago. He said those words before bed and I cried for most of the night. I honestly feel awful for crying so hard, it must be hard to sleep inside my uterus when I’m trembling like a leaf.

                “Do you know what you’re supposed to say?” He nudges me with his nose.

                “I love you.”

                “Good girl.” He straightens up and gets ready to leave, he puts on his dark green cape and runs his thin fingers through his hair.

                “Will you bring me some more books?”

                “You’re done with all of them already?”

                “Yeah, maybe, could I have some more modern books? _The Great Gatsby_ , _The Bell Jar_ -“

                “I will think about it. Any other requests?” I shake my head with a small smile plastered onto my face. “I will see you tonight, don’t get into any trouble.” He winks at me and I force my smile to grow wider. Without another word, he leaves me and I immediately go the bathroom to find a towel. I run it under the water for a short while and then get on my hands and knees to scrub at the blood stain on the floor. It’s not exactly visible against the granite, but in a certain light, you can see it. It’s there, a reminder of the pain of yesterday and I can’t let it stick around. I scrub fiercely and I only stop when Kenna comes in then tugs me off the floor. Like a mother, she sits me down on the bed and hands me my tray. I’m quiet for a majority of the time but we make small talk as a finish the oatmeal. Afterwards, I tell her that I want to be left alone and she nods then takes the tray and plate away. I’m grateful that she’s decided to leave me alone today. I fish out the papers that Dean gave me, that I stuck into the nightstand, and read them one by one.

                _Dear Dia,_

_I’m so sorry for everything, I’m so sorry that you have to stay in his presence. I’m sorry that I lied to you for all those years. I don’t work for the FBI, Maria doesn’t either. We work for SHIELD in order to protect the world from people like Loki and Thor. We did everything we could to stop Loki from destroying New York City, which was described to the public as a meteor landing, but we couldn’t keep him from killing innocent men and women. During that time, I was stabbed and told you that it was “a crazy terrorist” and again, I lied. It was Loki and I was dead for eight days. I still don’t know the details of how I survived but all I know is that Loki will pay for everything he has done to you and to me._

_Maria, Miranda, and Sam all say ‘hi’. I know Clara and Dean are writing their own letters in hopes that you’ll receive them. Don’t forget how much I love you. When you come home, I promise to keep you safe._

_All my love,_

_Dad_

* * *

 

_Dear Dia,_

_I want you to know how much I miss you. You are my best friend and I can’t stand not having you here. I’m going out of my mind wondering where you are, what you’re doing, whether or not you’re really safe. I know you aren’t, they’ve told me about Loki and the lies they’ve fed us all these years. I don’t know if I should forgive Maria and Phil, in the event of your death (which I hope won’t happen any time soon), I’ll think about forgiving them. You mean the world to me. Melanie, Becca, and Kim, they all miss you. I hate to tell you this, but the kids at school are talking about how much they want you to come home and how much they wish they got to know you better. You’re all over the news, you are a star and SHIELD won’t stop looking for you. I can’t wait to see you again._

_Love you forever,_

_Clara_

 

* * *

 

_Dear Dia,_

_It’s Dean here and I know that we still don’t know each other well, but I want you to know that you’re a great friend. I’m sorry that I lied to you, I’m sorry about all the lies. I work for SHIELD some of the time, I’m not an agent, hell, I’m not even employed. I steal credit card information and I don’t get paid. I’m fucking homeless and Sammy and I basically live out of motel rooms. We protect people from monsters like Loki. Vampires, werewolves, the whole shebang. They all exist. Anything you can think of, they’re probably roaming the Earth and we’re trying to protect you from them. I encountered Loki once, or at least, I think I did. His mischief was nothing but bothersome. I see now that we underestimated him. He destroyed New York, killed eighty two federal agents and thousands of civilians. I thought you were dead. I promised your father that I will try to bring you home, and I hope that we’ll see each other soon._

_Signed,_

_Dean Winchester_

_PS. I know I’m not supposed to say this and it’s classified material, but you have a right to know. Funny how they’re telling me this but they never told you. Your dad was part of a special op called Project Sunrise. If any of the agents that were part of the op were to die, whether it be in the line of duty or some other thing, they were to be resurrected… Or at least, they would do everything humanly and inhumanly possible to resuscitate that certain person. Your dad was part of the project and the first to die. From what I was told, he was dead for eight days and then he was brought back to life. And in those few weeks he was “on a mission”, he spent in the hospital, trying to recover enough so it looked like he had been stabbed in some nonfatal fashion. Don’t blame him, it was SHIELD’s fault. I mean they’re government spooks, what do you expect?_

                Each letter makes me tear up more than the last and by the last letter, I’m sobbing to myself. I shove the letters back into the drawer and curl up on the bed, wondering why they’ve lied to me. Why did Dad lie? Why did Maria lie? Why am I being lied to? How many fuckin lies do they think they can spread?! I don’t know, but my crying is make me ache all over. Eventually, maybe an hour or two later, I sit up and wipe my nose. I still can’t fathom an answer to my millions of questions. As I’m about to go find a tissue, I stop and find something that makes stomach lurch.

                “No, no, please no, no.” Blood has soaked the bed, I hadn’t noticed because I was too busy thinking about my problems. Now I have another one to add to the pile. I collapse again into the same position as before, my head on the wet spot of tears. The crying never ceases. I never thought it was possible to feel that much emotional pain at once. Everything I love is gone. Even though I don’t have a strong connection with her- it or him-, it’s gone, it’s all gone now. I fall asleep in my puddle of tears and blood, not wanting to wake again anytime soon. There’s too many lies and too much pain in my life, I hope that I bleed out before Loki can find me here.

                When I wake up, I can’t sit up. I’m too lightheaded and my vision is blurry. I knock the sheets out of the way so I can see the door and for once, in all of the time that I’ve been here, I pray that Loki will return. Despite the hell that I’ve been through, I want him to relieve this pain, I want him next to me. I can’t sleep now though, the pain is getting worse and all I can do is cry and wait. My fingers clutch the sheets and I try to quiet my thoughts. Nothing works and the voices of my friends telling me lies are drowning me.

                Again, I fall asleep but this time, I wake to find Loki standing over me with reddened eyes. He takes the coverlet in his arms and with a gentle manner, he picks me up and places me within the blankets that he wraps around me. I’m in my own little cocoon of pain and misery as he carries me to the door. I can’t savor this taste of freedom. In a small blast of light, we’re in a courtyard with a long pathway leading to a circular building. The moonlight offers little visibility, or maybe it’s just my fading vision and concentration. All I can see are the large trees and trimmed grass bordering the stone pathway.

                “Please, do not leave me. I cannot live without you.” His nose tickles my forehead and I look up at him, he’s still crying and he sniffles slightly as we cross a bridge over a large pond. The crickets and sounds of small insects are lulling me to sleep but he shakes me awake. “Stay awake, please, please.” Loki’s pace quickens and I’ve started to feel even worse than before. My stomach churns and pains continue to plague my stomach. My hands are cold and sweaty, my nose is stuffed up, and he continues walking with me bouncing up and down in his arms. He knocks on the door of the stone building and I feel him take a few deep breaths then another small blast of light comes forth from him. Katia opens the door just after his little magic trick.

                “She’s bleeding.” The two words spark chaos in the building and we enter without another word. People in blue outfits are rushing around, chattering away and going about their business. Katia ushers us towards the back of the building while three other women rush around us, gathering supplies. I close my eyes and awake again to find myself in a large, king-sized bed with white curtains surrounding the bed. The room is well lit and the bed is cool and soothing. None of these comforts do anything to calm me. I continue to black out every few minutes. Eventually, I’m dressed in a short, white nightgown and have four women hovering over me. They speak to each other quietly, in a very business-like manner. Loki’s voice is heard every so often and he’s mostly making desperate pleas to help the baby and I.

                “How far along are you?”

                “Seven months.” He answers for me and I sit up, swaying back and forth.

                “You will have to deliver the child, we cannot wait for it to pass on its’ own.”

                “Wh-what?”

                “We’ll induce labor, seeing as it probably hasn’t started, and you’ll deliver just you would if you were not miscarrying.”

                “I-I-Is it dead?” There’s a silence in the room.

                “Most likely.” My vision grows cloudy and I close my eyes. I can only remember snippets of what happens next. They argue with Loki and I’m trying to control my sobbing so that I can breathe. Some foul smelling paste is rubbed on my stomach as I continue crying. I don’t know if they say anything, I can barely hear my own thoughts. The next thing I know, I’m in more pain than before. Emotional, physical, everything hurts. Everything is making me want to die. I’ve screamed myself hoarse, my nails dig into the healers’ hands and I’ve ripped a bit of the sheets up. When all of the pain is gone, my hair is matted to my face and blood stains my legs and the sheets beneath me. I fall back onto the pillows, still crying, and I watch them carry something away. I know what it is and I close my eyes once more.

                “Good, you are awake.” A tan woman with long brown hair tied up in a bun is sitting next to me, a washcloth in her hand.

                “My baby-“

                “If you would like to hold her before she is buried-“

                “Please, please.”

                “Would you like to see your husband?” Husband? I shake my head and she comes back a few minutes later with the other nurses and a small bundle in her hands.

                “How long will I have to stay?”

                “You may leave tomorrow night.” The woman answers just as the two youngest ones come to help me sit up. Once I do, they rush back to their places and the tan woman sits down in her seat then hands the bundle to me.

                “What is her name?”

                “Claire. What’s your name?”

                “I am Tovah. This is Katia, Isla, and Johanna.” Katia has disappeared and I don’t ask any question. I simply hold my baby in my arms and kiss her forehead.

                “I am very sorry for your loss, we did everything we could.” Johanna says, bending her head.

                “Thank you…was…was she alive…at all?”

                “No, m’lady.” I nod in understanding and a tear drips on Claire’s forehead. I wipe it away and the sound of familiar footsteps forces me to bend my head, concealing the fear in my eyes. Despite knowing of her evident death, I hold her close against my breasts, protecting her from Loki who has entered the room.

                “Please leave us alone.” They exit the room without another word.

                “I cannot have them know that I have visited. Until we are home, you shall refer to me as your husband, Kristoph, and your name is Lydia. Understood?” I nod and close my eyes in hopes that he’ll disappear. Instead, he sits down next to me and places a hand on my arm in an effort to comfort me. “I was worried about you. They forced me out of the room a-and I couldn’t stop thinking about what would happen if I lost you.”

                “Well I’m still here.” I give him a tight smile and he nods.

                “You were crying and screaming, all I could think of was the Wi-“

                “Enough about him, enough. He’s gone, he’s dead, don’t mention him again, please.” He nods again and closes his eyes for a moment before letting out a small sigh.

                “May I hold her?” I think for a moment, knowing that he’ll take her anyway, I nod and let him lift her out of my arms. “She is beautiful.” He smiles down at her and kisses her forehead, much like I had did. A few tears drip onto her forehead and it breaks my heart to see him like this. He is a monster but here he is, crying over his daughter and telling me how much he was concerned about me. “I love you so much, Diana. Never forget that.”

                “I won’t.” I whisper and he places a gentle kiss on my lips before standing up.

                “We won’t be able to hold a funeral.” It’s not like I want a funeral. I hate funerals. “Shall we bury her or keep her ashes?”

                “Bury her in a garden, somewhere with flowers.” He snuffles and smiles, then glances back down at Claire, a hand brushing against her cheek.

                “I know she’ll love that.” Then he hands her back to me.

                “Do I have to say goodbye now?”

                “Yes, we must bury her soon to avoid any suspicion.” I take her in my arms and I feel as though my arms are stuck to her. My lips brush against her cheek and I leave a few tears upon her pale skin as I whisper _I love you._ She’s dead, she can’t hear me, and with that solemn thought in mind, I hand her back. I don’t get to see how Loki says goodbye because he’s out of the room in the blink of an eye. That’s that. She’s gone, dead, and no longer in my arms. I don’t know why I’m not sobbing, maybe it’ll just take a while for it to sink in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bet you're wondering what happened to Dean and Cas. Where are they? Well, they're on Earth and that comes in the next chapter. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and cried, because that's my goal, my goal is to make you attached to the characters and cry about them. Am I succeeding? Let me know and thanks you for reading. - Effie (ech0tang0)


	15. Angel on Fire pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's fate is revealed to Clara and the rest of the crew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I freely admit that I'm the laziest person ever...  
> Looking for a hints as to what will happen next? Follow [ the Unwilling blog](unwillingfic.tumblr.com) for hints, a few minor spoilers, and more. Thank you for being wonderful. - Effie

** Clara Hill**

                A while back, probably a little while before Dean showed up, I developed a bad habit. Maybe I’m one of those stereotypical PTSD patients that get addicted to drugs and stuff. Okay, okay, I’m not addicted to drugs…I just…like smoking. I may have been watching too many 1940’s films and decided to try it myself. I know the risks, but it helps calm me down. I found a pack of cigarettes in the mess hall and I picked it up. It was sealed so I didn’t have to worry. Next thing I know, I’m smoking cigarettes on a fucking helicarrier. Ah, who ever thought my life would end up like this? Not me. Ah, oh well. As long as Maria and Riley don’t find out, I’m okay.

                I only smoke like once a day and only outside on the deck nearest my room. It also happens to be next to Clint’s room and he likes to come on the deck too. I avoid smoking whenever he’s around, if he finds out, he’ll probably act like a disappointed parent and I don’t need a reminder that both of them are dead. Sometimes, Dean and I bond over how his parents are dead and my parents are dead and we’re both depressed about it all the time. He always says that it’s his fault that John and Mary are dead. My parents’ deaths weren’t my fault, they died in a plane crash in 1999, they were on their way to Cairo because they were going to see my dad’s friend who had moved there. They knew it would be best to leave Riley and I with Aunt Maria. The packed up their bags, kissed us goodbye, and all 217 people on board died off the coast of Massachusetts, where I was born. Tragic back story, isn’t it? I don’t know, Dean’s back story is crazier and probably more traumatic than mine. Apparently his younger brother attracted a demon which killed their mother and then their father died a few years back from some demon. The two brothers battle demons in their spare time and if they need help, they contact Maria and Phil about it. Maria and Phil battling demons? I can’t see it, I can see them sending Clint to deal with it though.

                Just as I let the smoke float out from my red lips, a noise behind me takes me out of my thoughts. The familiar shuffle of boots tells me it’s probably Clint. I position myself so the person can’t see the cigarette and turn my head to see who it is. I was right, Clint gives me a smile.

                “Hey.” I don’t bother to do anything with the cigarette, I really hope that he doesn’t give me a lecture about the risks of smoking.

                “Hey. Did you hear that Dean and Cas are gone?”

                “No,” I sigh, “It doesn’t really surprise me. He seemed pretty adamant about going to Asgard.”

                “I hope he isn’t in any trouble. We can’t help him if he is, besides, after what happened last time, I’m not sure any of us are willing to go against _him_.” We’ve started referring to Loki like he’s fucking Voldemort. We simply say _him_ with much more emphasis and everyone knows who you’re talking about by the terrified look in your eyes. Then when the other person starts talking about them, they get the same terrified look in their eyes.

                “That’s understandable.” He hasn’t gone into details about what happened to him when he was under Loki’s control. Clint only says that he killed people and he hasn’t been the same since. I don’t know what else happened to him and I’m not sure that I want to know. I don’t want to hear about more pain and suffering, my own is too much to bare right now. Thinking about what Dia might be going through hurts me more than anyone will ever know. I turn back around and lean against the railing of the deck, then put the cigarette to my lips.

                “Look at you, bad girl. Lookin’ for a lecture on the side effects of smoking?” Surprisingly, he lets out a chuckle and leans against the deck railing too. He doesn’t make any effort to take the cigarette away from me.

                “Not right now, Clint. Not right now.”

                “Don’t let Maria see you doin’ this. She will bust your head open even wider than Loki did.” It’s been a while since I’ve actually laughed, it feels weird at first to have this goofy smile on my face.

                “Did Phil tell you that Miranda is going back to New York?” I watch him shake his head.

                “You gonna go with her?”

                “Nope, not allowed. Besides, she’s trying to start fresh. All this stuff has freaked her out, I talked to her yesterday. She was gonna break up with Phil but she feels bad so she said that it’ll just be a long distance relationship for now.”

                “Do you think there’s hope for Phil and your aunt?”  
                “As a couple?” He smirks and nods. “I don’t even know, it would be great, I’ve always wanted that to happen but now without Dia, it just wouldn’t be as much fun. Ya know?” I rest my elbows on the metal railing and absentmindedly pick at the peeling, red paint. He does the same and watches me for a moment before I speak up.

                “What happened in New York?” I ask, looking up at him and feeling a bit guilty that I’ve posed this tough question. The truth is, I only heard the story once, from Aunt Maria. Seeing as she’s lied to me quite a bit, I don’t see why I should trust her. Besides, she didn’t elaborate. She simply said that Loki destroyed Manhattan, Hawkeye and a bunch of other people saved the city, and then everyone got their memories wiped. I figure he can shed some light on the topic.

                “Bad things, Maria went over this with you.”

                “She didn’t tell me everything, I know that.”

                “You’re really nosy.”

                “I have a right to know what happened.”

                “Come on, we’ll walk and talk.” I flick the cigarette over the side of the boat and regret it as I watch it plummet into the sea. Both because I don’t want to set the carrier on fire and I don’t want to kill any aquatic life. I rub my finger pads against my palm as we enter the carrier. A rush of cool air makes me shiver, I like the feeling but sometimes, on my bad days, it reminds me of things I want to forget. Everyone says I should talk to a therapist, but I’ve tried it twice before and believe me, it didn’t do much. Losing my parents was bad enough, talking to a therapist made me feel even more depressed. The door closes behind us and Clint rolls his shoulders.

                “I was assigned to help with a top-secret project. Somehow, Loki used the project to get to Earth where he took that certain project, a scientist, and me along with him. The scientist, Doctor Selvig, and I were puppets. He used this weird mind control on us and we did whatever we were told.” He sighs as we round a corner. “Later, when I broke out of the control, I went to New York with the group called the Avengers. Then we saved the city.”

                “That wasn’t very informative.”

                “Most of it’s top secret.”

                “I have clearance.”

                “Says who?”

                “Says me.”

                “I’ll need badge and-“ His laugh is cut off by a ruckus in front of us. Two young nurses, both of whom are very sweet, bustle around a body bleeding out on the floor.

                “We have a code blue and we need a crash cart.” I stumble forward and if he weren’t there to catch me, I’d be on the floor shaking.

                “D-D-Dean-“

                “No, let’s get out of here, come on-“

                “Dean-“

                “He’s in good hands.” Clint starts dragging me away as I try to claw my way back to the scene. He wraps a firm arm around me to keep me up and he helps me shuffle to the cafeteria. Dean’s eyes were closed, his face pale and splotched with wet streaks of red. His neck was sliced open but part of it was closed but all I could see was the blood staining his jacket and the exposed muscle of his neck.  I don’t notice Clint checking my pulse. I don’t notice him slide a cup of hot chocolate in front of me. I don’t notice the doctor wrapping me in a blanket. I don’t remember falling asleep with Maria sitting beside me. The only part I remember is the blood and then snuggling into Maria’s shoulder, smelling the light scent of rubber tires and lavender.

 

** On Asgard **

                “I will kill you, I’ll kill you-“ Loki lunges for Thor and wraps his thin fingers around his brother’s neck, squeezing as tight as possible. His brother gags and claws at his face, leaving a mark his cheek and a few on his neck.

                “Why do you always take everything away from me?” Loki throws a punch with one hand still around his neck and despite their mother’s protests in the background, he doesn’t stop. Thor flips him onto his back and the continue to scuffle, clawing and screaming obscenities at each other. It takes the guards at least three minute to arrive and by then, the two are both heavily bruised and still kicking at each other. The men in golden armor haul Loki off his brother first and shove him against the wall.

                “I will kill you, I’ll kill your human, and I will kill every single person that you hold dear.”

                “How dare you, broth-“

                “I am _not_ your brother, get that through your fucking skull-“ The guards haul him off, his hair matted with blood and his mouth filled with blood that was pouring out from his nose. Poor Loki continued screaming at the top of his lungs, hoping to offend and anger Thor, but he had only done that to himself. When the guards let go of him, he turned on his heel and headed towards the direction of his room where Dia lay, unaware of what was about to happen next.


	16. Sinnerman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki attends to business and after a fight with his brother, he unleashes his anger on Dia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've literally had part of this chapter written since I started writing this fic. It's pretty graphic and very triggering in many respects. Graphic rape, graphic abuse (physical, emotional, & sexual), blood, vomiting, cutting, graphic violence, and probably more warnings that I can't think of right now. Anyway, this chapter is actually a turning point for Dia so it's not just a violent filler chapter, despite what you might think! As always, please leave your comments and suggestions below. All comments are welcome! - Effie

                They all know who she is. Loki mentions her every so often when they’re supposed to be discussing important things. _But she is important!_ They’ll correct him and say, _important business ventures_. He cares about business, he cares about securing the throne for himself, but his love for Dia distracts him. It’s noticeable, today especially. His hair is in its’ natural state (for once) and his clothes are messy. Loki walks into their briefing room/his own personal library and stops in the doorway, scanning the faces before him. Tyr, Aris, Brynhildr, Sigyn, and Loras all stand around their tables and bow respectfully towards him. He is their Prince of Asgard and for them, the next King.

                Strangely, all the men of the group have dark hair and menacing eyes. Perhaps it’s because Loki wants to have a family of his own. Sigyn is very different from Bryn though. Her long blonde hair is tied in a lose braid that sits on one shoulder. She is full of grace and love, her admiration for Loki is immeasurable but her desire for power is little. Bryn certainly admires him but her need for power surpasses Sigyn’s tenfold.

                “My Prince, you seem unwell. Do you need to rest?” Bryn frowns and takes a step towards him, outstretching a hand to take his arm. When her hand comes close, he brushes it away and closes his eyes, his lips trembling.

                “My lady lost the child.”

                “I am truly sorry for your loss.” Aris murmurs, they all bow their heads in respect and Loki lets out a small sigh.

                “Pray tell, is Diana well?” Sigyn asks, walking over to stand next to Bryn.

                “Thankfully, yes, she is. The healers said a week of rest and she will be well again.”

                “That is good to hear. Perhaps we shall meet her soon.”

                “No, not yet, I do not want her to become ill. The influenza is making its’ rounds, she will be extremely susceptible considering her condition and that she is…human.”

                “Indeed, that’s wise,” she nods, “shall we get to work?”

                “Of course.” No one ever specifies what that work is, but it’s importance is obvious. Later in the day, Thor’s voice rings out through the hallways and they all rush to hide their work. Sigyn and Bryn sit still as Thor walks in with a large smile on his face. The group, except for Loki, all respectfully bow their heads and truthfully, he doesn’t care if they bow their heads or not.

                “Brother-“

                “Please don’t call me that.”

                “Well why not?”

                “Not here, we’ll discuss this later.”

                “If you would like us to, we shall leave you to discuss your affairs privately.” Sigyn offers, but Loki immediately strikes down the suggestion. She’s tried so hard to win him over in the past few years, but he spurns her affections and has treated her harshly once or twice. Thankfully, he hasn’t done any physical harm to her like he has with Dia.

                “There is a rumor that you’re courting someone. Is it true?”

                “Yesss.” He grinds his teeth together and he has the urge to glare at his companions, but that will have to wait. He has deal with Thor’s curiosity first.

                “Pray tell, who is it? Is it the lovely Sigyn?”

                “No. Please leave us-“

                “Ah yes, I forgot to mention that Father wants to see you. Come, we can talk in private.”

                “Not now, we are busy with…important things.”

                “Father says this cannot wait, come.” Loki grumbles to himself and reluctantly sets his pencil down then heads out into the hallway with his brother.

                “Let’s home their talk goes well.” Everyone silently agrees to Loras’s statement as he pulls a book out from the shelf to read while their friend is gone. The brothers’ voices fade away as they walk towards the throne room and the group slowly starts to go about their business. Sigyn starts writing a to-do list for herself while Tyr twists at his wedding ring. Loras places his book on the table and sits in the chair beside Brynhildr. Naturally, this attracts Aris’s curiosity and he hovers over his friend’s shoulder, scanning over the contents of the book.

                “ _The History of Norse Legends_? Why are you reading that Midgardian shit?”

                “I want to visit there someday, when the Bifrost is fixed.” He answers with an innocent smile.

                “You should look at their contemporary works. Dickens, Fitzgerald, oh and Stephen King as well. The latter is more up to date.”

                “Alright, I’ll see if Loki has any of those. Any others I should read?”

                “ _Les Miserables_ is a good read, can’t remember the author’s name though. Shakespeare has plenty of good plays and sonnets to read, I’m sure Loki has some of his works.” Loras gets up from his seat and scans the bookcases filled with books of all shapes. Small leather-bound diaries, paper notes slipped between the pages of Faulkner, large leather bound ones with Asgardian paper, anything ones’ heart could desire. The bookcase was less than twenty feet long but spanned nine feet out of the twelve foot tall ceiling. The poor boy was rather short for his age and could barely reach the leather bound copy of _Oliver Twist_.

                “Do you like Midgardian literature, Sigyn?”

                “Yes. Nanna brings back the latest books whenever she visits the realm. She cannot wait for the Bifrost to be rebuilt, she loves visiting the humans. She finds them fascinating. What about you Tyr?”

                “I find them to be very dull beings. I spend my time wisely, by helping Loki secure the throne and watching over my wife.” One thing is certain about him, mentioning his wife, Kenna, will get him riled up. His possessiveness is evident and everyone is careful to avoid talking about her, lest they get him upset. They continue what they were doing before but shut their mouths. Tyr pulls out a map of Asgard from a shelf and spreads it out on the circular, wooden table. He studies it quietly and minutes later, he rolls it back up.

                The sound of the old paper crinkling is interrupted by shouting in the hallway. The yells echo against the walls and the scuffle of feet is amplified as well. Tyr is the first to stick his head out to see what the fuss is about and he smirks at the sight before him. The rest of the group follows at his heels and Sigyn brings her hand to her mouth. They do nothing but chuckle and watch Loki wrap his hands around his brother’s neck, trying to choke him to death. Hand fly around and they futilely scrape at each other’s armor. Blood surfaces from the scratches on Thor’s hands and neck, Loki’s only scratch is his bloody nose.                     “I will kill you, I’ll kill you-“ Loki lunges for Thor and wraps his thin fingers around his brother’s neck, squeezing as tight as possible. His brother gags and claws at his face, leaving a mark his cheek and a few on his neck.

                “Why do you always take everything away from me?” Loki throws a punch with one hand still around his neck and despite their mother’s protests in the background, he doesn’t stop. Thor flips him onto his back and the continue to scuffle, clawing and screaming obscenities at each other.

                “Somebody do something. Don’t just stand there, help them.” Sigyn motions towards the pair and Fandral shakes his head.

                “I’ll fetch the guards.”

                “I rather like it.” Aris murmurs to nobody in particular, but it makes the group laugh. Thor manages to throw Loki off of him and tries to get to an entry to another hallway, but with a primal snarl, Loki jumps him, his hands clawing at his neck again. The pair hit the floor with a loud _cathwack_ and as limbs smack the floor, everyone cringes, knowing that the armor couldn’t protect them from getting numerous bruises.

                It takes the guards at least three minute to arrive and by then, the two are both heavily bruised and still kicking at each other.

                “I will kill you, I’ll kill your human, and I will kill every single person that you hold dear.”

                “How dare you, broth-“

                “I am not your brother, get that through your fucking skull-“ The guards haul him off, his hair matted with blood and his mouth filled with blood that was pouring out from his nose. Poor Loki continues screaming at the top of his lungs, hoping to offend and anger Thor, but he had only done that to himself. When the guards let go of him, he turns towards his group, his hair matted with blood.

                “What the Hel were you fighting about?”

                “None of your business, Sigyn.” She’s visibly affected by his harsh words but he doesn’t care, he simply calms  himself down only so that the guards will release him.

                “Please clean yourself up, my prince, so that we can continue our work.” Tyr folds his hands in front of him and his new leather boots squeak as he crosses the threshold into their workroom. He picked up a few papers and knowing what Loki might be thinking, he decided to go back to his room.

                “I won’t take long.” Loki, knowing that he cannot go any other way, takes the opposite route Thor. _I will be King soon, brother!_ The foul words from his brother’s mouth made him want to go after him again, but he restrained himself and continued towards his room. He had a plan in mind and no one would be able to stop it from happening.

 

**Kenna Tarynsdottir**

                As I walk down the corridors towards Dia’s room, I notice Lady Jane, the only known human in Asgard, running down the hall. Her blue and silver dress billows behind her as she rounds a corner, almost crashing into me.

                “Oh my God, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you, I-“

                “It is fine,” I smile and nod to her, “Where are you going?”

                “I need to find Thor, he just go into a fight with Loki. I-I don’t think it ended well.” She says as she tries to catch her breath.

                “Go to him. I will make sure Prince Loki is unharmed.” I place a gentle hand on her arm and she gives me a small smile before running down the hall again, her face filled with worry. Everyone in Asgard cares for the princes and we’re all loyal, but now, I push my loyalty to them aside. I’m afraid of what he might to do to Dia.  Humans are fragile and I can’t allow him to hurt her. Knowing that the consequences could be deadly, I lift up my dress above my ankles and start running towards Dia’s room.

                The only thing I hear as I run is the blood pumping through my veins and my cloth shoes hitting the floor. As I approach the door, the sound of furious shouting can be heard. I throw the doors open and find a goblet being hurled across the room. It hits Prince Loki’s cheek and he flinches, bring his hand to see whether or not there’s blood. There’s only a small, red cut, but it’s enough to make him angrier.

                “I want to go home! Let me go home-“ Dia beats her hands against the bed like a child and she shoulders shake as she sobs. Her red cheeks make it obvious that she’s been crying for some time, for how long, I’m not sure. It must have started sometime after I took the leftovers away.

                “After all I’ve done? After all I’ve done for _you_ and you’re still an ungrateful little wench.” He gives her a slap on her the cheek, making her recoil in pain. I instinctively run towards her and start to shove Loki away, which is fairly easy since he was caught off guard by my sudden presence. Her finger nails make marks on my skin as put a hand near her, shielding her body with my own.

                “You did not grieve for my child.”

                “How dare you-“ His hands start balling into fists and I prepare myself for anything that might come.

                “I will not permit this any longer, if you want to punish someone, punish me and only me.”

                “Oh really? Why should I listen to a weak-minded maid?”

                “I’ll tell the All-Father and T-Tyr. Do not unleash your anger on her.“

                 “Do you think that will make a difference? They won’t believe you, no matter what you say, you won’t be able to convince the foolish All-Father that I should be punished and Tyr would never turn on me. He has you, remember? A little pet of his own-“

                “I am his wife-“ He laughs and steps towards me, his eyes burning with hatred.

                “A slave and a child bride, nothing more than that.” The Prince cocks his head to the side and outstretches his hand slightly. Golden stream of light charges at me and constricts around my waist. My inevitable execution has been planned out. With a flick of his wrist, I hit the wall so that I have a full view of the room from where I sit. No matter how much I pull at the restraints, I cannot break free. Struggling only makes it tighten and squeeze my lungs, forcing me to take shallow breaths. My eyes flit towards Dia, who’s shivering. The Prince  diverts his attention back to her, just as I did. “Now she’ll have a front row seat to the show.” A shiver-inducing smile creeps upon his lips as she gets off the bed further away from us. He swings around the side and his hand wraps around her wrist but she tries to pull free. Nothing works against him as he tugs her closer and then flings her effortlessly  to the floor at the base of the bed. She makes a small yelp as she hits the floor but she quickly pushes herself up and tries to look for a way to escape.

                “Nowhere to hide, nowhere to go.” He says in a singsong voice. Tears start streaming down my cheeks as I watch her try to scoot away. He drops to the floor and before she can make it any further, he straddles her hips to keep her in place. As she fights, whipping her arms around and shoving on his waist, he just chuckles and watches her like she’s an animal on display. A delicate finger descends and strokes her cheek, making her go ballistic. He gently shushes her and it takes her a moment to realize that listening to him is the best option, then she slowly stops her screaming and fighting. The only thing she can do now is silently cry, like I am. She could always beg for mercy, but it would only be adding fuel to the fire, as the Midgardians say.

                “Look at you, still a fighter after all this time. Even now you do not love me. What will it take to teach you that it is the only option in order to ensure your safety?” He dances his fingers across her trembling lips and through my own tears, I watch in horror as he reaches for something on his waist. My voice is stuck in my throat, I’m pinned against the wall, and I have no way to help her. His fingers brush against her chin and jaw line while he kisses her gently but it soon grows frenzied and furious. With one swift motion, he pulls out a thin, silver dagger from his belt and makes a thin cut on her wrist. Tyr has done this with me before, he called it ‘blood play’ and I was utterly disgusted. He seemed to enjoy it, but he prefers seeing me in pain rather than disgust. The Prince obviously doesn’t care, as long as he scars her for life, that’s all he’s concerned about. She lets out a shriek but only thrashes around slightly. He takes the blade away from her skin and brings it up to her face for her to see the blood.

                “No.” The word passes my lips, and the pair cannot hear me.

                My head swirls as I watch her poor eyes widen and her body tremble even harder. The nausea overwhelms me and I lean to the left to vomit all over the floor.

                 “Do you enjoy the sight of your own blood?” No answer. “Either way, you will be seeing quite a bit of it tonight. Just as much as when you lost. My. Only. Heir. To the throne. Of Asgard.” He says the last words through gritted teeth.

                “It was not her fault- Ah-“ The knife flies through the air with immaculate precision and embeds itself in my arm, just below my shoulder. It’s not exactly stuck in my arm, but it’s made a large gash in which is sits on my arm. I squeeze the tears out of my eyes and I don’t dare look up when another shriek erupts from her mouth. My toes curl as pain and rage pulse through my veins.

                “No, no please-“ Her clothes are thrown across the room and she cries out again, her bare chest rising up and down at a rapid pace.

                “What were we going to name the child again? Oh, yes, Valia.” Another cut, another shriek. “Do you know what the Norns predicted? They said Valia would have the most beautiful green eyes, like the grass in my mother’s gardens a-and flowing brown hair. She would’ve put my brother to shame!” His pained scream echoes through the room. “It is your fault, Dia, it is all your fault that she’s dead. You just had to kill her.” He must have made a deeper cut because her screams are even louder than his before.

                “Nooo-“ I scream, my voice growing hoarse towards the end of the few seconds as the tears cut me off.

                “Such a loyal one. Tyr is lucky to have you.” Through salty tears, I watch him lick his lips and then trace her jaw with his tongue. She’s stopped fighting, but sobs wrack her body and her eyes (and Loki’s too) are watching me. Suddenly he stands up, towering over her. Dia curls up into a ball and hides herself so her backside is to him. “Not a fighter now? Are you? I can do much worse to you.” His dark chuckle makes her shiver and she starts to feebly crawl away towards me and he lets her.

                “I’m sorry, I am so sorry.” I whisper, shaking my head in shame as she reaches out for me. Suddenly, he grabs her hips and pulls her away from me, then flings her onto the bed, his nails making brutal scratches on her chest. I shut my eyes again, but it does nothing to dampen the sounds. Her frantic motions as she tries to get away from him, his snarls and barbaric growling, the sound of her screams as he continues to make painful slices with his dagger.

                “Watch me as I fuck you.” The women of the palace have always said that he’s the worst of the brothers, but I never imagined that it could ever pertain to this. As a sit there sniffling with my knees pathetically pressed against my chest, I vow to never let this happen again, no matter the cost. I never want to see the pain and humiliation on another woman’s face again.

                He flips her onto her chest and presses her against the bed, her words (if she’s saying anything at all) are gibberish as she’s awkwardly muffled by the sheets. I open my eyes and watch him, with a dagger in hand, as he carves an ‘L’ on her back. Shutting my eyes again isn’t an option as I continue watching her pain and suffering. It’s real, it’s real, I will never be able to get this out of my head.

                “As soon as you learn to love me, we will take the throne together.”

                Dia’s hands clutch the sheets and her blood is everywhere. Her body grows limp and her cries subside. He growls and thrusts into her one more time before pulling out and flipping her over. Her eyes are closed and she’s quiet, but she’s still breathing. He mutters something about being better then Thor and it seems like ages as he continues to ravish her but eventually, he stops. When he does, bruises and scratches litter her body along with streaks of dried and fresh blood, then he looks up at me.

                “If you were not Tyr’s,” he says, slightly out of breath, “I would have you on this bed as well. You may want to run back to him before I change my mind.” The gold binds around me disappear with a flick of his finger and I take the dagger out of my arm before I stand up. I stand there shaking, my feet have turned to lead. The  Prince stands up and I stagger towards the door, my heart racing. There’s nowhere to go but to Tyr, so I run to our room which feels like it’s years away. After tripping over my feet numerous times, I finally burst into our room. He’s sitting there at his desk with a few papers scattered about.

                “What is wrong?” I shake my head, not wanting to reveal the direful sight that I have just witnessed. Having him hold me close is most likely not any option and Tyr notices my wound before realizing that my mental state has been severely damaged.

                “Who hurt you?”

                “Th-the Prince.” My whole body is shaking in fear that Loki might return to do more damage. My senses have always told me to stay away from him, as far away as possible. As maid, I have no choice but to obey my supervisors and do what I’m told, I cannot take another position. Besides, leaving Dia would mean letting that monster continue to mutilate her, if I stay with her I may have some say in what happens. I know it was his fault that she’s no longer with child, it’s just another secret I’ll have to keep.

                “Thor-  
                “Loki.” He nods and then wraps his arms around me, tugging me into a tight hug. “He will never touch you again, I promise.” Then he lets go to survey my wound.

                “It hurts, a lot. Oh gods,” I tremble against him and then lean over his arm to vomit again, spilling the rest of my stomach out onto our floor. My knees hit the floor and I continue retching until I can’t anymore. Then he picks me up so that he can place me on the bed.

                “I will patch you up, you will be as good as new in no time.”

                “Shouldn’t we get Katia to heal me?” I fall back onto the bed, exhaustion and emotions overwhelming me.

                “Katia is dead, she has been dead for a week. You should have heard by now, considering how much the maids gossip.” I shake my head.

                “How?”  
                “I’m guessing it was at Loki’s hands. He told me about how Diana lost the child, he must have took it out the poor healer. He blamed her for the child’s death.” Tyr casually shrugs then starts towards the washroom.

                “You stay here and I’ll be back in a moment.” When he returns, my stomach as finally settled. He places a few bowls on the nightstand along with a few bandages, then a cool cloth is placed on my head.

                “Will you tell me what happened?”

                “I will not speak of this to anyone, ever.”

                “Alright, but I’ll keep pressing. I want to know what happened,” before I can say anything in response, he rips of my sleeve to survey the wound. I cringe and look away, then allow him to do his work without any interruption. As a man who has been in a war numerous times, he knows how to bandage wounds, but I trust a healer more than him. They’re much more qualified.

                Once he’s done, he gently pats my arm and cleans everything up, then he comes back to sit on the bed with me. I’m not sure I want his company, but I don’t protest, he can be very sensitive about me rejecting his affection. Tyr removes the cloth from my head and silently strokes my hair.

                “Do you wish for me to stay with you? You still seem very rattled.”

                “If you do not mind.” I smile and he takes off his armor so he’s only his shirt and breeches, then crawls onto the bed with me. A kiss is gently placed on my wound and he presses his face against my shoulder, I can feel him smile against my skin.

                “You are safe with me, I promise.” But I’m not. I’m not safe here or anywhere, for many reasons.


	17. Song of Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil gets an unexpected call from his sister-in-law and on Asgard, Dia destroys her room in a fit of rage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit, it's been so long! Here's this chapter, please forgive me for the huge wait, my muse has gone and been replaced with a roleplaying one. Anyway, here, TAKE IT. FORGIVE ME. - Effie

                It's late in the afternoon when Phil's phone rings. He never turns it off anymore. The ring is the default one used for unknown numbers and he holds the Blackberry in his hand, listening to it ring, before answering. When he does, he's quiet and stops breathing for a moment.  
                "Hey, Phil...uhm it's Eve Allen, Claire's sister. I'm sorry we haven't talked in so long." Eve. Eve. Eve. He hasn't heard that name in two years. His wife had one living relative, Eve, who resided in Virginia and had never visited much. She was a part of the family that had disowned Claire when she refused to go to church and be Christian like them. Claire had never brought it up until Phil finally asked, it was something she hated to talk about. The only family member she kept in touch with was Eve but despite them being friends, they rarely talked.  
                "Oh, hey, how are you?"  
                "I'm good, good. I just figured I should call you to find out about your daughter. Is the investigation going well?"  
                "It's fine, we're stuck on a few leads but hopefully we'll make some progress." That's an understatement. They've been stuck since Dean got his throat slit and ended up in the SHIELD intensive care unit for a week.  
                "How are you handling it?"  
                "I'm," he sighs, "okay."  
                "Good, I just wanted to let you know that I hope you find her soon and if you need anything, let me know. My house is always open to you and your family. Okay, Phil?"  
                "Thank you, I really appreciate it."  
                "It's no problem, really. Besides, family can help in a situation like this. My kids, you remember Jake, Richard, Scott, and Kristen? They're pretty concerned. Kristen is in college now, criminal justice, like you."  
                "That's good for her, tell her the FBI is always looking for tough girls like her." Phil smiles briefly, wondering if Dia is as tough as her. Kristen climbed trees and fixed cars, she never shed a tear, but she never lost her femininity.  
                "I will, I will. Uhm, I have to go. Call me if you need anything, alright?"  
                "Of course. Maybe we'll see each other soon."  
                "As long as we're not wearing black." They say their goodbyes' and then both hang up. The afternoon sunlight shines across his weary, pale face and he puts his feet up on his desk. He starts to close his eyes when a knock on the door jerks him out of his thoughts.  
                "Come in." He takes his feet on his desk and spins around in his chair, waiting for the person to enter his room.  
                "Hey, I wanted to say goodbye before I head for land. The helicopter will be on deck soon." Miranda sets her purse and cello down against the wall before walking over to him, arms outstretched. Despite her waning feelings for him, she still wanted him to hold her tight and protect her. Everything that has happened has shaken her up, she wants to move on and get as far away from the trouble as possible. They wrap their arms around one another, enjoying the warm hug, then pull away to look into each others' eyes.  
                "You're going back to the apartment right? Mine, right?"  
                "Yeah, just like we planned. I'm going to be dropped off at the airport, then I'll pick up the dog from Riley's place, then I'll go to the apartment."  
                "Alright...if you still want to be with me, you can move in permanently-"  
                "I...I don't know if that's a good idea... I-I-I'll think about it, but trouble just follows you every where. I can barely handle this-"  
                "It's okay, you don't have to. Just know that this option is always open." He tucks a strand of her amber hair behind her ear and gives her a kiss on the cheek, his hand lingering on her arm.  
                "Thank you, Phil, for everything." There are a few tears shining in her eyes as she pats his back and gives him another firm hug. When she pulls away, she looks down at her feet and starts heading for the door.  
                "Keep in touch, okay?"  
                "Will do." She gives him a thumbs-up and picks up her bags before blowing him a kiss. The kiss only makes the sadness in his heart even heavier. It weighs him down from day to day and right now, it's almost overwhelming. She disappears into the corridor and he slowly sits down in his chair, wondering what to do and where to go next in his life and in the investigation.

 

* * *

  

                The next day, after Loki attacked Dia, it's like someone is slowly using a dimmer switch on Dia's emotions. She lays in bed all day but doesn't sleep a wink, she eats a fair amount but she doesn't seem at all interested in the food or anything really. When Loki saunters into the room, she greets him quietly and does as she is told. The next day is the same, but she sleeps all day and never feels like getting up. The one time she does, it's to wash her face in order to keep herself from haivng panic attack. It felt as though every rape, every punch, every tear flashed through her mind. And it hurt too much. The day after is much the same, but she buries her head under the pillows and cries her heart out. The next day is much the same. Finally, after a week of crying and sleeping in bed, the emotions finally start to show.  
                For Kenna, today is a bit different. Instead of walking to the room with a few other maids in order to hear the newest gossip, Tyr and herself walk hand in hand.                 She leans her head against his shoulder, a little smile on her face. Tyr refused to participate in any sort of public display of affection unless it was at a party or a ceremony. Then he held her close, showing that he owned her. It was a trait that he shared with Loki. The pair enjoyed having power over others, no matter who they may be. Soon enough, they'd hold more important positions of power in Asgard.  
                The Complete Collection of Shakespeare's Works, Volume I collides with the vanity mirror and shatters it, glittering bits of glass flying everywhere so that it looks like rain drops. A few bits land in Dia's messy hair that's spewing out of a ribbon sliding towards her shoulders. The bed is practically dismantled, the sheets are strewn everywhere, the pillows had been slit open, and there were a few red stains littering the different fabrics. It takes a few moments for Kenna to realize what Dia is trying to do. Her shaking hands reach for a large chunk of glass and she slides it against her wrist. She hisses in pain and tears are pouring down her face but she still makes another cut.  
                "Stop it, stop it-" Dia turns the shard towards her, stopping her approach. Kenna holds her hands up, showing that she's not going to do anything. She watches her human companion anxiously, trying to predict her next move.  
                "No, no. I'm d-done with this. I'm done."  
                "What do you mean?"  
                "I'm done with this shit. I'm done with Loki's shit. I-I-I lost a child I n-never thought I w-would love." The last sentence echoes against the gilded walls and she gestures with the shard of glass to the doorway. "I-I'm caring more about l-losing her more than h-h-him."  
                "Please stop this, Diana."  
                "No, no. I'm going home one way another and i-i-if I have t-to die, th-then so be it-" She makes another slash on her wrist and doesn't even notice Kenna exiting the room in search of Tyr. Her vision is blurred by tears and she picks up her dress, running in the direction that he had last gone in. As she turns the corner, she starts calling out his name and thankfully, he's within earshot. Tyr turns around, a perplexed expression on his face. As she stops in front of him, her cloth shoes sliding against the slick floor, she explains to him the predicament as she grabs his calloused hands in hers'. Knowing Tyr, he can't give up the opportunity to be the hero, and Kenna knows that.  
                "Please, please go get Loki." Just for a moment, Dia stands up and sweeps everything off of the vanity. When the vase doesn't shatter, she picks it up and throws it at the wall, letting out a loud screech, her eyes scrunching up as she dropped back down to the floor.  
                "Of course. Go stay with her." She nods vigorously in agreement and wipes the tears away as she starts running back down the way she came. The sound of her pulse can be heard through her ear as she stops in front of Dia's door, she's out of breath and startled by the sound of the blood rushing through her veins. Her shaking hands press the door handles down and she slowly opens the doors in case Dia were behind them. The sight before her will stay with her for years afterwards. In those few minutes, Dia's arms have become covered in blood. The shards of glass in her hand and the floor on which she sad are also bloody though certainly not as much as her arms. Her hair sticks out in all directions, some of it is dark with blood stains and in some places, her hair has been torn out by the root. The hiccups and sobs haven't ceased. Instead of talking, she just shakes her head and looks down at the glass in her hands. Her whole body trembles as she leans her head against the vanity draws, though some of them have been ripped out, their contents spilling onto the floor.  
                "Are you alright?" It's obvious that she isn't. Dia shakes her head and presses a bloody hand to her head.  
                "Wh-wh-why me, K-Kenna? Why?" The maid sits down on her knees and is careful to avoid the glass. She skillfully rips off the right sleeve of her blue maid's dress and without a word, gently press it to Dia's arm. It doesn't soak up much of the blood, the gowns are flimsy and cheap.  
                "I will patch you up, you will be good as new." Her cool fingers run down a patch of Dia's cheek that isn't bloody and then tilts her chin up slightly. "Will that be alright?" Kenna gives her a small smile with a fake air of confidence radiating from it. Dia nods and allows her to help her up. A sound behind Kenna makes her turn around. Tyr and Loki step into the room,  
                "Please Tyr, Loki, I need your assistance-"  
                "You left her alone, you idiot." Loki jerks Kenna away from Dia and Tyr emits a small growl, a warning not to touch his property. It's obvious Tyr doesn't care about the wellbeing of the bloodied up human in front of him...or does he? Weak, submissive, human. The perfect victim. The thought is saved for later.  
                "Please, go get your supplies, Loki and I will handle her for now." She nods and exits the room, arguing with him would be sensless. Besides, she doesn't want to let her friend bleed out any more. "And please get sheets as well." With his hands on her arms to steady her, Loki helps her over to a patch of the bed that hasn't been torn up. A small burst of green light appears in his hand and he reveals a silk ribbon, which he uses to tie her frazzled hair into a ponytail. His hand, now stained with her blood, gently strokes her cheek, brushing away the tears and along with them, some of the blood.  
                "Seeing you like this pains me."  
                "You didn't mourn my child."  
                " _Our_ child."  
                "It was as if you didn't care."  
                "I still mourn, I never show it. It isn't proper for a prince to show his emotions." Dia doesn't buy it, but keeps her mouth shut and she lets him sit on the bed with her. His strong arms wrap around her waist and it leaves her wondering about whether or not he could heal her wounds. The past few weeks, he had only used his magic for small things such as ribbons or refilling his wine glass. Time passes by quickly for her as she goes in and out of conciousness. She's sleep-deprived and lost blood, but it doesn't stop her from holding on tightly to his arm, not wanting him to leave. It's engraving itself onto her brain, he is her only hope. The only one that loves her, that cares for her, that wants her to live. Thinking about it puzzles her but she accepts it. He places a kiss on her forehead and she feels a cool cloths being applied to her arms and forehead. For a moment, Loki holds her in his arms as Kenna and Tyr work together to repair the bed. The mattress is ripped in numerous places and the pillows must be discarded, but it will have to do for now. He places her back onto the fresh sheets and continues cleaning her wounds. After applying some sort of cool balm or possibly oil to her wounds, she falls asleep in his arms. Even while she sleeps, her fingertips and nails dig into his arms.


End file.
